PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
She shook her head, smiling. Tommy Tupence, his face convulsed with his efforts to fathom the conversation, glanced at his watch. Mrs. Morrill nodded to him and laid her gloved hand on Leona's elbow.
"Perhaps she will think better of it, Mr. Ames," she said. "Let her reflect. Come, dear."
Gordon said good night and watched them go through the big copper-grilled glass doors with a frown.
"Hang it," he muttered. "I'll find out now if only to get the best of her!" He went in search of Peter Waring, and a few minutes later they were speeding toward the theater, Peter grumbling because he feared they had missed the first act entire. They had, as it proved. As, however, the last act failed to please them Pete forgot his regrets. After the play they dropped in at Rector's, where, over coffee, Benedictine and cigars, Gordon suddenly demanded:
"Pete, what do you think about honesty?"
Peter looked a little startled. "Why," he replied, "it—it's a good thing."
"Well, is it practical nowadays? Can one be honest and get along?"
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