PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
simple idiot! She's got a husband and two kids!"
"I know," replied Peter, "but when it comes to choosing a wife I want to do the choosing, Gordon."
"Well, I dare say you do. What of it?"
Peter grinned. "That's the answer," he replied.
"What's the answer?"
"Miss Roberts. She was doing the choosing."
"Piffle!"
"Fact," said Peter gravely. "She almost had me tagged, old chap."
"You're a damned conceited idiot."
"Conceited if you like, old chap; idiot, no. I've played it safe, what?"
"Yes, unless Bob Ferris hears what you've been doing. Then you may get your silly head knocked off."
Peter grinned again. "Say, Gordon, you've got a peach of a grouch, haven't you? What's the matter? Wouldn't she come along?"
"Oh, go to thunder!" growled Gordon. "I'll be glad when I've got the whole bunch of you dumped in New York again."
"Nice, hospitable host you are," mourned
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