CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Election day dawned cloudy, grey and rainy. By nine o'clock, the rain tapered oft to a light drizzle but that was as good as it promised to do all day.
"Cheer up, darling," Art tried to console her. "It's raining just as hard for all the candidates you know."
"I wish you were right, dear," Wanda corrected him. "I don't want to sound like an old political pro, but rain falls harder for some candidates than for others."
"You better fill me in on that after I pour us some more coffee," Art shook his head as he stepped naked out of the bed. "I never was much at either weather or politics."
Wanda listened as he rattled cups in the kitchen, then the silence was broken by a little whoop of exhultation.
"Now there's something I can understand," . he called in a way that told
