"I think a married man--especially such an _un_married married man as Pete--is rather a dangerous antidote." "Nonsense! They both _know_ he's married! And they've both got normal common-sense." "But," objected Penelope, suddenly and unexpectedly, "love has nothing whatever to do with common-sense." Kitty gazed at her in frank amazement.
"Penelope! What's come to you?
We've always regarded you as the severely practical member of the community, and here you are talking rank heresy!" Penelope laughed a little, and a faint flush stole up into her cheeks.
"I'm not unobservant, remember," she returned, lightly, her eyes avoiding Kitty's.

"And my observations have led me to the conclusion that love and common-sense are distinctly antipathic." "Well, Nan seems quite happy and cheerful again, anyway," retorted Kitty.

"And if she'd fallen in love with Peter, knowing that there was a very much alive Mrs.Peter in the background, she would hardly be feeling particularly cheery." "Oh, I don't think Nan's fallen in love--yet.

And as to her present joyful mood, that's easily accounted for by the doubled income Lord St.
John is allowing her--I never knew anyone extract quite so much satisfaction as Nan from the actual spending of money.

Besides, although she doesn't realise it, Peter has made himself rather indispensable to her." Kitty spoke with nervous sharpness: "But you don't think she cares for him ?" The other reflected a moment before replying.