If you do, I will--" But Peter, his hat in the air, was now out of hearing.

When he reached the mud line he turned, drew his umbrella as if from an imaginary scabbard, made a military salute, and, with a suppressed gurgle in his throat, kept on to Jack's room.
Somehow the sunshine had crept into the old fellow's veins this morning.
None of Miss Felicia's pins for him! Ruth, from her place by the sitting-room window, had seen the two talking and had opened the front door, before Miss Felicia's hand touched the bell.

She had already subjected Peter to a running fire of questions while he was taking his coffee and thus had the latest intelligence down to the moment when Peter turned low Jack's light and had tucked him in.

He was asleep when Peter had peered into his cramped room early this morning, and the bulletin therefore could go no further.
"And how is he, aunty ?" Ruth asked in a breathless tone before the front door could be closed.
"Getting on splendidly, my dear.

Slept pretty well.