noted an empty chair just next her, and that her uniform
was not that of the nurses of this hospital. He felt confident that she
would look again, and he was not disappointed. Instantly he made up his
mind, nodded, and reached for his cap. "I see a girl I know over there,"
he said to his neighbour. "Excuse me, will you?" Then he got up and
walked boldly over to the vacant chair. He was fast acclimatising to war
conditions.

He sat down on that empty chair and met the girl's eyes fairly. She was
entirely at her ease and laughing merrily. "I've lost my bet," she said,
"and Tommy's won."

"And you've made me tell a thundering lie," he replied, laughing too,
"which you know is the first step towards losing one's soul. Therefore
you deserve your share in the loss."

"Why? What did you say?" she demanded.

"I said I saw a girl I knew," he replied. "But I haven't any idea who you
are, though I can't help feeling I've seen you before."

She chuckled with amusement, and turned to her companion. "He doesn't
remember, Tommy," she said.

The second girl looked past her to Peter. "I should think not," she said.
"Nobody would. But he'll probably say in two minutes that he does. You're
perfectly shameless, Julie."

Julie swung round to Peter. "You're a beast, Tommy," she said over her
shoulder, "and I shan't speak to you again. You see," she went on to
Peter, "I could see you had struck a footling girl, and as I don't know a
single decent boy here, I thought I'd presume on an acquaintance, and see
if it wasn't a lucky one. We've got to know each other, you know. The
girl with me on the boat--oh, damn, I've told you!--and I am swearing,
and you're a parson, but it can't be helped now--well, the girl told me
we should meet again, and that it was probably you who was mixed up with
my fate-line. What do you think of that?"

Peter had not an idea, really. He was going through the most amazing set
of sensations. He felt heavy and dull, and as if he were utterly at a
loss how to deal with a female of so obviously and totally different a
kind from any he had met before; but, with it all, he was very conscious
of being glad to be there. Underneath everything, too, he felt a bit of a
dare-devil, which was a delightful experience for a London curate; and
still deeper, much more mysteriously and almost a little terrifyingly,
something stranger still, that he had known this girl for ages, although
he had not seen her for a long time. "I'