f them are just loose from home.
You must make allowances, padre. It's human nature, you know."

Peter nodded abstractedly. It was the second time he had heard that.
"It's all so jolly different from what I expected," he said meditatively.

"I know," said the other. "Not much danger or poverty or suffering here,
seemingly. But you never can tell. Look at those girls: I bet you would
probably sum them up altogether wrongly if you tried."

Peter glanced at a couple of French women who were passing. The pair were
looking at them, and in the light of a brilliantly lit cinema they showed
up clearly. The paint was laid on shamelessly; their costumes, made in
one piece, were edged with fur and very gay. Each carried a handbag and
one a tasselled stick. "Good-night, cherie," said one, as they passed.

Peter gave a little shudder. "How ghastly!" he said. "How can anyone
speak to them? Are there many like that about?" He glanced back again:
"Why, good heavens," he cried, "one's Marie!"

"Hullo, padre," said his friend, the ghost of a smile beginning about his
lips. "Where have you been? Marie! By Jove! I shall have to report you to
the A.C.G."

Peter blushed furiously. "It was at an inn," he said, "this morning, as
we were coming back from the forest. But she seemed so much better then,
Mackay knew her; why, I heard him say...."

He glanced back at the sudden recollection. The two girls were speaking
to the two others, twenty paces or so behind. "Oh," he exclaimed, "look
here!..."

The tall Labour man slipped his arm in his and interrupted. "Come on,
padre," he said; "you can't do anything. Mackay's had a bit too much as
it is, and the other chap is looking for a night out. We'll stroll past
the cathedral, and I'll see you a bit of the way home."

"But how damnable, how beastly!" exclaimed Peter. "It makes one
sick!..." He broke off, and the two walked on in silence.

"Is there much of that?" Peter demanded suddenly.

The other glanced at him. "You'll find out without my telling you," he
said; "but don't be too vehement till you've got your eyes open. There
are worse things."

"There can't be," broke in Peter. "Women like that, and men who will go
with them, aren't fit to be called men and women. There's no excuse. It's
bestial, that's what it is."

"You wouldn't speak to one?" queried the other.

"Good heavens, no! Do you forget what I am?"

"No, I don't, padre, but look here, I'm not a Christian, and I take a