Trevor stood up, a little flushed. "Here," said Peter, filling his glass with what was left in the bottle, "drink this, Pen. You sure want it."
"It's your turn next," said Trevor, "and, by Jove, the bottle's empty!
Encore le vin," he called.
"Good idea. It's Julie's next cork, and Graham's the man to do it." said
Jack Donovan. "And then it'll be your turn, Tommy."
"And yours," she said, glancing at him.
"Bet you won't dare," said Elsie.
"Who won't?" retorted Julie.
"Peter, of course."
"My dear, you don't know Peter. Here you are, Peter; let's show them."
She tossed the cork to him and stood up coolly, put up her foot on the edge of the table, and lifted her skirt. Peter pushed the cork into its traditional place amid cheers, but he hardly heard. His fingers had touched her skin, and he had seen the look in her eyes. No wine could have intoxicated him so. He raised his glass. "Toasts!" he shouted.
They took him up and everyone rose to their feet.