the flask to Hertz and was pleased to see it result in a complete recovery. The tailor completed the job on Harold's trouser leg and the Freshman rejoined Grace, who was tapping her foot impatiently and looking annoyed indeed. This was certainly the worst jumping-jack of a partner she had ever been blessed with!
In another second he was off again!
For his eyes had turned in the direction of Peggy Sayre's counter. He had seen her pluck a daisy from the bouquet he had brought to her and play the ancient game of "He loves me, he loves me not" with it. He danced slowly around in the same spot observing her expectantly. She pulled the last petal. It said—"He loves me." Peggy buried her pretty face in Harold's flowers and kissed them.
That was enough for Harold. He dashed out through the crowds joyously toward her, the wonderful news ringing in his mind that Peggy loved him! Nearing her counter, he slowed down and approached her stealthily.
Her face was still buried in the flowers. Harold Lamb smiled and forgot his troubles. A great warmth spread inside of him. Peggy loved him! He slipped behind her counter and, without her suspecting his presence, swept her into his arms. He smothered her
