"I must go up and
dress."
"I'm rather glad," said Alice, "I'm not coming. Clare gets considerably on
my nerves just at present."
"Yes," said Bobby, "but thank God Mr. Cardillac's in Paris--for the time
being." Then he added, reflectively--
"Dear old Peter--bless him!"
CHAPTER XV
MR. WESTCOTT SENIOR CALLS CHECKMATE
I
Peter felt as he closed the hall door behind him that The Roundabout was
both cold and dark. The little hall drew dusk into its corners very swiftly
and now, as he switched on the electric light, he was conscious almost of
protest on the part of the place, as though it wished that it might have
been left to its empty dusk.
A maid passed him.
"Has your mistress gone upstairs?" he asked her.
"I don't think she has come in, sir."
"Not come in?"
"No, sir, she went out about three o'clock. I don't think she's come back,
sir."
She's running it pretty close, he thought as he looked at his watch--then
he went slowly up to dress.
He had been more irritated by the superiorities of young Percival Galleon
than he had cared to confess. Peter had, at the bottom of his soul, a most
real and even touching humility. He had no kind of opinion of his
abilities, of his work in comparison with the other workers that counted.
Moreover he would not, were his ultimate critical sense aroused, fail to
admit to himself some certain standard of achievement.
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