Page:Barbour--Peggy in the rain.djvu/114

 a tangent, his thoughts for the fiftieth time, flew off to a slim little black-gowned figure seen against a silvery curtain of rain, to a pair of violet-blue eyes that seemed to hold in their depths all the mysteries of life.

He called himself a fool for letting her go without discovering her name, where she lived. Yesterday he had believed the absurd things he had said, believed that the Fate which had thrown them together twice would do so again. To-day he frowned at his confidence and had scant faith in Fate's administration. His feeling for the girl was not love. She pleased him, fascinated him, excited him, piqued his curiosity. He wanted her and meant to have her, and he never doubted that ultimately she would come to him. He was too wise to expect her to fall into his arms at once; he wouldn't have it so; but in the end—well, she liked him already; she had owned to that, and he had seen it for himself; and sooner or later Youth rebels against poverty and lovelessness. He was ready to make any concessions save marriage. Pushing aside an almost untasted breakfast, he arose to tramp the length of the big dining-room, hands in pockets and a frown on his face. She