PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
"Get into a cold tub, Pete," he admonished him, "and brace up. What are you doing this evening?"
"No' a thing," said Peter. "Got 'n' sussheshions?"
"Yes. Let's go to a show. I'll drop around for you at eight-fifteen, old man. Don't forget the tub."
"Nev' fear, Grordie. Always ready for lil' fun. Thash kin' hairpin I'm."
At half past eight Peter was sober but hazy. They went to a theater together and dropped into Louis Martin's for supper. Peter was all for finishing up the evening in a blaze of glory, but Gordon had no heart for it. The music affected him strangely, and he was rapidly acquiring a fine case of blues when Peter caused a diversion.
"Heard about Tommy Tupence?" he asked. "Gone home to Hingland."
"The deuce! What's wrong?"
"Chucked."
"Never!"
Peter nodded cheerfully. "A bit of a facer for Tommy, I'll bet. They say he's been pasting a few more mortgages on the old home to keep
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