"
CHAPTER L.
SUNSHINE.
But just as Peter was about to continue this rather unsatisfactory train
of thought, his eye caught sight of a flattened bullet lying on the
floor. He picked it up, with a smile. "I knew she was my good luck," he
said. Then he took out the sachet again, and kissed the dented and bent
coin. Then he examined the photographs. "Not even the dress is cut
through," he said gleefully, looking at the full length. "It couldn't
have hit in a better place." When he came to the glove, however, he
grieved a little over it. Even this ceased to trouble him the next
moment, for a telegram was laid on his desk. It merely said, "Come by
all means. W.C.D'A." Yet that was enough to make Peter drop thoughts,
work, and everything for a time. He sat at his desk, gazing at a blank
wall, and thinking of a pair of slate-colored eyes. But his expression
bore no resemblance to the one formerly assumed when that particular
practice had been habitual.
Nor was this expression the only difference in this day, to mark the
change from Peter past to Peter present.
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