PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
"Leona? Why, I thought, dear, you especially wanted"
"I've changed my mind, mamma," Leona tossed her sunshade onto a chair. "Run along. Peter, be careful of mamma at the landing. She has a passion for falling down."
Peter looked his disappointment, but departed happily a moment later, Leona smiling down on him from the railing. Then, as the launch puffed away, she seated herself comfortably and removed her hat.
"Allow me," said Gordon.
She yielded it to him and pulled at her gloves. The steward bore away hat and parasol and an order for two rickeys. Gordon seated himself at the other side of the table with its bowl of nasturtiums and its litter of newspapers and magazines. Leona folded her gloves and then glanced across at him calmly.
"Well?" she asked.
Gordon offered his cigarette case and she shook her head. He lighted up, flicked the match over the rail and smiled.
"I wonder," he said, "why you're doing it."
"Doing"
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