"Good night."
Eve stopped. She could not go tamely away without saying a single one
of the things that crowded in her mind.
"Do you imagine," she said, "that I intend to marry you? Do you
suppose, for one moment----"
"Rather!" said Peter. "You shall have a splendid time from now on, to
make up for all you've gone through. I'm going to be awfully good to
you, Eve. You sha'n't ever have any more worries, poor old thing." He
looked at her affectionately. "I wonder why it is that large men always
fall in love with little women. There are you, a fragile, fairy-like,
ethereal wisp of a little creature; and here am I----"
"A great, big, greedy pig!" burst out Eve, "who thinks about nothing
but eating and drinking."
"I wasn't going to have put it quite like that," said Peter,
thoughtfully.
"I hate a greedy man," said Eve, between her teeth.
"I have a healthy appetite," protested Peter. "Nothing more. It runs in
the family. At the time of the Civil War the Rayner of the period, who
was King Charles's right-hand man, would frequently eat despatches to
prevent them falling into the hands of the enemy. He was noted for it."
Eve reached the door and turned.
"I despise you," she said.
"Good night," said Peter, tenderly.
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