PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
pointed, though. I suppose I'd have telephoned out here and told them to chuck the dinner in the Sound."
"And then?" she persisted.
"Spent the evening thinking about you and—and swearing at you, always most politely." They laughed together. Then she sighed, smiled and, leaning back in her chair, surveyed the place through the branches of the plants.
"It's very pretty," she said. "And what makes it more delightful is that I haven't the least idea where I am? Of course, that, I suppose, is the Sound?"
"No," he answered, shaking his head gravely, "that's the Mediterranean, the Gulf of Lyons."
"And this is Nice?"
"Mentone. We go on to Nice in the morning."
"And Monte Carlo? I've always wanted to see Monte Carlo."
"I had planned for three or four days there," he replied questioningly. She nodded.
"And after that?"
"Well, I had thought up the Rhone and then across into Switzerland, if that pleases you."
She leaned forward eagerly, her eyes sparkling.
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