The golden woman added her persuasion. “For my sake, Peter. It's Tree-Tops--the house we're going to look at. Sounds almost as fine as the Happy Cottage, doesn't it? Lorie's going to live there, perhaps.” Harry thought he had spotted the trouble. “We'll be in Oxford before nightfall--catch a train back.” Peter answered shortly. “Sorry. I can't. I've got my people with me.” He waved his hand and stepped from the road to the pavement. Cherry had said nothing. She let her clear eyes rest on him. The horses were getting restive with standing and the passengers impatient. The Faun Man shook out his whip; the leaders jumped forward. “Well, if you can't, you can't,” he said. Suddenly Cherry spoke. “I'm not going. Please let me down.” The Faun Man whistled. “So that's the way the wind's blowing!” The ladder was brought out. Peter helped her to descend. “Good-bye and good Luck.” The horn sounded. As the coach rolled on its way, every head was turned, looking back. It grew dim in the dust of its journey. They were left alone in the sharp sunlight, embarrassed in each other's presence. It was she who spoke first, in a little caressing voice which mocked its own sincerity. “That wasn't nice of me. And yet I didn't intend----. I didn't really, Peter--not at first. I thought--we all thought you'd be one of the party. And then--because I wanted to go, I forgot all about you. D'you forgive me?” “If you wanted to go, I'm----.” She broke in on him. “There, instead of making things better, I've made them worse. I shouldn't have come to Oxford--I've hurt you.” Shouldn't have come to Oxford! She was threatening to go out of his life again, just when he'd refound her. “Cherry,” he said, “I'm willing to be hurt by you every day, if only I may see you. Don't you remember? Can't you understand? I'd rather be hurt by you than loved by any other woman in the world.” “I know that.” In silence they walked back to the Professor's house. At the corner of the street, before they came into view, he asked, “D'you mind spending the morning with my people? They're returning to London this afternoon; then we can be by ourselves.” The faces were still at the window, looking out; he was very conscious of the curiosity he aroused. When he had climbed the stairs and entered the room, he explained, as though it were the most natural of happenings, “I've brought Cherry with me.” His father relieved the awkwardness by asking, “What are we going to do?” “Why not the river?” Hardcastle suggested.