Page:Barbour--Peggy in the rain.djvu/38

 If I call she will answer. Did you hear? Did you hear? Such a sweet little wife! I love her, I love her! Eh? Did she call? Just a minute, my dear; I must finish my song; just a minute, a minute, a minute! Oh, how I sing! I'm in love with my voice. And my wife and the beautiful world! Heigho! Good night! ''Here I come! Here I come! Here I come!''

Off he darted, a gray streak in the soft twilight.

"If there's a Hammerstein in Birdland," murmured Gordon, "he will have you signed for next season, I bet."

He lighted a cigarette, flicked the match onto the lawn below and blew a blue cloud of smoke through the window,

"What a voice she had!" he went on, half to himself. "Peggy! What a dear, queer little name! Peggy-in-the-Rain, she called herself." He smiled. "Please, who are you, Peggy-in-the-Rain? And where are you now, I wonder. Just around the corner, on the next street? Up yonder there in the big hotel? Out on Whiskey Road in some big white stucco palace? Are you