PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
Gordon glanced again and looked across. "I presume you like a sweet wine?" he asked.
"I think I'd rather not have any, if you don't mind," she answered hesitantly.
"Really? Then make that a pint, Burke. Or, wait. Would you prefer claret, Peggy? Or a sauterne?"
"Nothing, thank you."
"Not even a cocktail?" he begged.
"Yes, I think I'd like that; just a weak one."
"Clover Club?"
"Or a Palmetto," she said demurely.
"I'm afraid they don't know that here," he laughed. "Two Clover Clubs, Burke, and just a pint of the '93."
"You telephoned?" she asked when the head had gone.
"Yes. One has to here. It is so far out of the way."
"Then you were pretty sure I'd come, weren't you?"
"No, I was not sure at all. I only played it safe."
"If I hadn't come what would you have done?"
"I don't know. I'd have been horribly disap-
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