PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
Gordon flushed. "Then damn such friends!" he exclaimed savagely. "A real friend wouldn't think the rottenest thing possible!"
"One's friends are of all kinds," she answered sagely. "No, I'm not anxious for—the notoriety that would be mine if I did what you propose. I know New York pretty well, Mr. Ames; my work has shown me all sides of it; and I know that friendship between a man in your position and with your wealth and a woman such as I is impossible; at all events, for the woman! But we can be friends, can't we, even if we don't see each other? You're rather nice and I do like you, just as you said, and I shall like to think that we are friends." She smiled frankly and held out her hand to him. "And now I really must get on. I've loads to do, and the shower is almost over."
He took her hand and held it tightly. "No," he said, "that won't do. I won't keep you now if you must go, but this isn't good-by. I give you fair warning, you see. You aren't rid of me as easily as that, Peggy-in-the-Rain."
"You—you're selfish," she answered sadly, trying to pull her hand away.
"Perhaps. Anyhow, I'm truthful. I said I
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