if to assure himself of Peewee's comprehension, then went to the door and called the lawyer. They talked inaudibly together and went out. Sallet came back.
"You'll have to wait here a little while," he said. "Then I'll look after you."
He closed the door on Peewee and the boy sat staring gloomily. He was not directly thinking about what his father had said. He was thinking about Mrs. Markyn. When he saw her again his father would have told her all about him. He did not hope, as his father seemed to hope, that her liking for himself would make her forgive them both. People, he thought, did not forgive other people who had destroyed their happiness. Whatever her feelings toward his father might become, she would have only hate for himself. He remembered how, the last time he had seen her, she had talked long and kindly with him; she had put her cool, slim fingers against his cheek; finally moved by his friendliness, she impulsively kissed him. She would never now do that again. He regretted that he had let them send him to the farm. If he had
