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I suppose, too, it was partly the effect of sitting in court all day listening to cases. One gets what you might call the judicial temper of mind. Pepperleigh had it so strongly developed that I've seen him kick a hydrangea pot to pieces with his foot because the accursed thing wouldn't flower.
Mallory Tompkins used to tell him about Judge Pepperleigh, and what a wonderfully clever man he was and how he would have been in the Supreme Court for certain if the Conservative Government had stayed in another fifteen or twenty years instead of coming to a premature end. He used to talk so much about the Pepperleighs, that Pupkin was sick of the very name.
It was too much for him to feel that Judge Pepperleigh might be out on the sidewalk thirsty at midnight, that the night hands of the Times-Herald on Wednesday might be compelled to go home dry. On this point Mr. Smith's moral code was simplicity itself, do what is right and take the consequences. So the bar stayed open. Every town, I suppose, has its meaner spirits.
Pupkin and Zena Pepperleigh constantly met together. They played tennis as partners on the grass court behind Dr.
Pupkin was clean, plumb, straight, flat, absolutely in love with her. Which fact is so important that it would be folly not to close the chapter and think about it. EIGHT. The Fore-ordained Attachment of Zena Pepperleigh and Peter Pupkin Zena Pepperleigh used to sit reading novels on the piazza of the judge's house, half hidden by the Virginia creepers.
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