PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
which made his round face look more like a jovial full moon than ever. Gordon had grown used to the grin, but he still found Peter's rhapsodizing on the subject of Leona rather trying. If allowed to, Peter would talk Leona from morning till dark. He had been doing it this afternoon, and Gordon, gazing across the harbor, had good-naturedly seemed to listen. As a matter of fact, he had heard nothing that Peter had said for a half hour. Eight bells struck, and Gordon, coming out of his day-dreaming, broke into the middle of one of Peter's glowing periods without knowing it.
"She's up a half this morning," he said.
Peter stared, open-mouthed. "Who?" he asked.
"C. and W."
"Oh!" Peter took a sip of the contents of the tall glass at his side in an effort to readjust his thoughts. "That's good. I told you so, too. I suppose even Lovering's come 'round by now, eh?"
Peter smiled. "Lovering still regards me as a socialist, but I fancy he thinks me less dangerous than at first."
"You could have knocked me down with a
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