PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
said with a smile. "Just how bad do you hate me?"
"Not a bit, I never did. But you wouldn't let me—care for you, and I had to do something—or pretend to." She laughed lazily. "I fancy it helped, Gordon."
"The funny part of it is," he said, "that if it weren't for Pete I'd—try my luck."
"It wouldn't be any good, my dear. I've recovered, as I say. Besides"
"Well?"
"You don't want me; you want—any one, Gordon. You're lonely and down in the mouth. Take my advice and be careful for a while or you'll find yourself married and done for. It's horribly easy. I almost did it myself."
Gordon smiled assent, thinking of the banished Tommy Tupence. Neither spoke for a minute. A crisp, cool breeze ruffled across the harbor, bringing grateful relief from the humid heat of the day. At last Leona, setting down her glass, said:
"You didn't keep me prisoner here to talk about Peter. What is it, Gordon?"
"You remember the little boy who broke into the family conversation with 'Now let's talk about
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