Part 13 (1/2)

Philip retired in good order and closed the door softly, leaving them together.

Once in the hall, he s.n.a.t.c.hed up his cap and coat and slipped out of the front door. The afternoon light was fading.

There was still a chance, he thought.

He broke into a run.

CHAPTER VIII

THE HAMPSTEAD HEATH CONSPIRACY

HE was right, but it was touch and go. Peggy was climbing down from her gate as Philip cantered up.

”Hallo, Pegs!” he said breathlessly.

Miss Falconer greeted him coldly.

”Hallo!” she replied. ”Going for a walk?”

”What walk?” asked the bewildered Philip. ”Didn't you expect to meet me?”

”Certainly not. Why should I? I wasn't thinking about you at all,”

replied Eve's daughter.

”But you promised to meet me here at half-past three,” cried Philip in dismay.

”And now it's a quarter to five!” blazed Peggy, abandoning her strategical position, woman-like, in order to score a tactical point.

Sure enough, the sound of a church chime fell musically on their ears through the still evening air.

”I'm awfully sorry,” said Philip.

”It doesn't matter at all,” replied Peggy, still inflexible.

”Good-night!”

”Good-night!” said Philip quietly. He was const.i.tutionally incapable of forcing his society where it was not wanted. He turned to go. ”It's a pity I'm late,” he added regretfully. ”The most exciting things have been happening, and I wanted to tell you about them.”

The small damsel's _hauteur_ melted in an instant. She deliberately resumed her perch upon the gate.

”You can come and sit up here if you like,” she intimated, holding out her hand.

Philip accepted the invitation with alacrity, but the touch of Peggy's froggy paw brought a look of concern into his face.

”I say,” he said, ”you are cold! Put on my greatcoat.”

Peggy declined.