Part 40 (2/2)
”But we must n't remember anything. That's quite impossible. The thing to do is to forget.”
She appeared so earnest that he hastened to rea.s.sure her.
”Then we'll forget.”
He said it so cheerfully, she was ready to believe him.
”That ought to be easy for you,” he added.
”For me?”
”I 'm going to leave you with Peter.”
She caught her breath. She did not dare answer.
”I've seen a good deal of him lately,” he continued. ”We've come to know each other rather intimately, as sometimes men do in a short while when they have interests in common.”
”You and Peter have interests in common!” she exclaimed.
He appeared uneasy.
”We're both Harvard, you know.”
”I see.”
”Of course, I 've had to do more or less hedging on account--of Madame Covington.”
”I'm sorry, Monte.”
”You need n't be, because it was she who introduced me to him. And, I tell you, he's fine and big and worth while all through. But you know that.”
”Yes.”
”That's why I 'm going to feel quite safe about leaving you with him.”
She started. That word ”safe” was like a stab with a penknife. She would have rather had him strike her a full blow in the face than use it. Yet, in its miserable fas.h.i.+on, it expressed all that he had sought through her--all that she had allowed him to seek. From the first they had each sought safety, because they did not dare face the big things.
Now, at the moment she was ready, the same weakness that she had encouraged in him was helping take him away from her. And the pitiful tragedy of it was that Peter was helping too, and then challenging her to accept still graver dangers through him. It was a pitiful tangle, and yet one that she must allow to continue.
”You mean he'll help you not to worry about me?”
”That's it,” he nodded. ”Because I've seen the man side of him, and it's even finer than the side you see.”
Her lips came together.
”There's no reason why you should feel responsibility for me even without Peter,” she protested.
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