"Why do you smoke ?" "Because," said Peggy honestly, "I like it.

Does it shock you, dear ?" "It did at first," admitted Joan.

"And even now I shouldn't care to smoke myself.

But then when that old painter Kenny likes so came here with his wife, and her hair was so white and her face so kind, and she smoked like a chimney--" "Joan!" "She did," insisted Joan.

"Well, then, Peggy, I just stayed awake that night and thought it all out.