Explore "Peter" by E.F. Benson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The grin soon cleared off. His father rose from the sofa on which he had been so elegantly resting, as Peter entered, and clasped his hand, though he had seen him at tea a couple of hours before.
"Have you heard from your mother? " he asked. "My loved and lost one? " He smoothed his velveteen coat as he spoke.