rned it a crisis might be precipitated.

One of three things might happen: He might bend all his energies to
second Peter's effort to fill Anna's place, to find the right person; he
might suggest taking Anna's place himself, and insist that his presence
in the apartment would be as justifiable as Peter's; or he might do at
once the thing Peter felt he would do eventually, cut the knot of
the difficulty by asking Harmony to marry him. Peter, greeting him
pleasantly, decided not to tell him anything, to keep him away if
possible until the thing was straightened out, and to wait for an hour
at the club in the hope that a solution might stroll in for chocolate
and gossip.

In any event explanation to McLean would have required justification.
Peter disliked the idea. He could humble himself, if necessary, to a
woman; he could admit his asininity in assuming the responsibility of
Jimmy, for instance, and any woman worthy of the name, or worthy of
living in the house with Harmony, would understand. But McLean was
young, intolerant. He was more than that, though Peter, concealing from
himself just what Harmony meant to him, would not have admitted a rival
for what he had never claimed. But a rival the boy was. Peter, calmly
reading a magazine and drinking his Munich beer, was in the grip of the
fiercest jealousy. He turned pages automatically, to recall nothing of
what he had read.

McLean, sitting across from him, watched him surreptitiously. Big Peter,
aggressively masculine, heavy of shoulder, direct of speech and eye, was
to him the embodiment of all that a woman should desire in a man. He,
too, was jealous, but humbly so. Unlike Peter he knew his situation, was
young enough to glory in it. Shameless love is always young; with years
comes discretion, perhaps loss of confidence. The Crusaders were youths,
pursuing an idea to the ends of the earth and flaunting a lady's
guerdon from spear or saddle-bow. The older men among them tucked the
handkerchief or bit of a gauntleted glove under jerkin and armor near
the heart, and flung to the air the guerdon of some light o' love.
McLean would have shouted Harmony's name from the housetops. Peter did
not acknowledge even to himself that he was in love with her.

It occurred to McLean after a time that Peter being in the club, and
Harmony being in all probability at home, it might be possible to see
her alone for a few minutes. He had not intended to go back to the house
in the Si