THE REDEMPTION OF ANTHONY
Peter, meanwhile, strolled until he was out of sight, and then he started off on what might be called a purposeful quickstep. He searched among the willows, and she wasn't there; he tried the hilltop, and she wasn't there; then, hot and irate, he made for the edge of the river, and nearly stepped on her, lying flat on her stomach in the grass, looking into the depths of the water.
"Well," Peter fairly snorted, "so here you are!"
No reply.
"I've been all over the country looking for you, and I'm nearly dead with heat and anxiety."
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry? You don't know what it means. You wouldn't care a rap if I dropped dead at your feet with sunstroke!"
"Yes, I would. How would I ever get you home?"
He flung himself down dejectedly and watched her. "Why did you give me the slip?"
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