PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
little pleasure. There isn't so much. Perhaps" her voice faltered—"perhaps it was because—just because I do care—a little."
"Peggy!" he murmured longingly.
"At least you must own that I did try to keep you away. Even that first day there in the woods I seemed to know. And I've played traitor at last—to both of us. For you'll blame me, won't you?"
"Never! There is no blame on either side, Peggy-in-the-Rain. I love you, sweetheart, with every bit of me, and you love me, dear. Isn't happiness something? Is there so much of it in your life that you can turn your back on this? And we could be very happy, dear. For you there would be no more running around the streets, no more nosing about for—for murders. There's almost nothing you couldn't have, dear"
"Please!"
"You're right! I had no business talking that way. And yet all that does help to make happiness, Peggy-in-the-Rain."
"Oh, I wonder! Tell me, you have so much, Mr. Ames, are you happy, really and truly happy?"
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