Mind you, there's another side of Clare--a splendid side, but it wants very
careful management and I don't know, Peter, that you're exactly the sort of
person--"
"Thanks very much," said Peter grimly.
"No, but you're not--you don't, in the least, see her as she is, and she
doesn't see you as you are--hence these misguided attempts on my part to
show you one another."
But Peter had not been listening.
"Do you really think," he muttered, "that she cares about me?"
Bobby looked at him, laughed and shrugged his shoulders in despair.
"Ah! I see--it's no use," he said, "poor dear Peter--well, I wish you
luck!"
And that was the end as far as Alice and Bobby were concerned. They never
alluded to it again and indeed now seemed to favour meetings between Clare
and Peter.
And now, through these wonderful Spring weeks, these two were continually
together. The Galleons had, at first, been inclined to consider Clare's
obvious preference for Peter as the simplest desire to be part of a general
rather heady enthusiasm. "Clare loves little movements...." And Peter,
throughout this Spring was a little movement. The weeks went on, and Clare
was not herself--silent, absorbed, almost morose. One day she asked Alice
Galleon a number of questions about Peter, and, after that, resolutely
avoided speaking of him. "Of course," Alice said to Bobby--"Dr.
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