PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
to the westward a flash of lightning ripped the darkness.
If they did meet—what? What was to be said that had not already been said? It was not likely that five months had shaken her determination. He had allowed her to choose and she had chosen; and he had accepted the verdict with what he prided himself was good grace; would it be fair to try to alter it all now?
The sound of running steps half a block ahead broke into his thoughts. A dark figure crossed the boulevard from one of the streets leading toward the lake and paused under a lamp-post. In the stillness Gordon heard, or thought he heard, the buzz of the alarm as the man released the hook. Gordon hurried his pace, but before he reached the corner the figure had disappeared again, running, into the darkness of the side street. It was a narrow cul-de-sac, poorly lighted, lined with shabby-genteel brick houses with high stoops. Lights shone here and there from transoms and windows, and three-quarters of the way toward the blind end of the street a yellow glare streamed across the pavement from an opened door. Figures moved there and voices came
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