Page:Glitter (1926).pdf/132

she had helped him to rid his mind of presumptions that were unworthy. His eyes wandered over her now, from the expanse of symmetrical silken leg to the bright hair, and the nose. . . . He smiled inwardly at Peg's nose. It was so appropriate to Peg! Impudent, gamin . . . and alert and interested looking when she listened. . . .

"Gosh," he said suddenly, "old Bones is lucky. I'd give anything if you were my sister."

He left Boston two days later, and spent Christmas and the week following Christmas with his mother. The days at home were exact counterparts of the days at the Allens'—jazz and jubilation—except for Peg. Long after he had returned to college she remained in his mind as the one oasis in an otherwise muddled and meaningless vacation.

"Jock! Hey, Jock! Wake up there, will you?"

Jock opened his eyes and squinted into the gloom. A bulky figure in a bathrobe was standing over him. "Who're you?" he queried sleepily.

"Ken Kennedy. Somebody wants you on the telephone. Wake up, will you, Jock?"

"I'm awake. What time is it, anyway?"

"About one."

Jock leaped out of bed, instantly clear of head. One o'clock . . . somebody wanting him on the 'phone at one o'clock at night. . . . Something wrong with his mother? Or Yvonne home, perhaps?

"Is it long distance?" he asked as he and Ken traversed the upper hall.