ie, wedged in between
people, and refusing tea from a subaltern. "She expects you to bring it,"
said Miss Raynard.

Peter looked puzzled, "Where's Donovan?" he said. "I thought she came in
with him."

The girl smiled. "She did, but she arranged for you to bring her tea,
whoever Donovan is, and she'll wait for it. She's that sort. Besides, if
Donovan was that officer with the matron, he's probably got other fish to
fry."

Peter waited for no more, but plunged into the press again. As he
emerged, he crossed the track of his friend, who was steering about with
cakes. "Hullo, padre," that individual said; "you're a smart one, you
are. Let's take those girls out to dinner. They'll come all right."

Peter mumbled something, and went on with his tea towards the corner. The
other's readiness and effrontery staggered him, but he wasn't going to
give himself away.

"You're a brute!" said Julie promptly. "Where have you been?"

"It's where have you been, you mean," retorted Peter. "I thought I was to
take you in to tea. When last I saw you, you had Donovan in tow."

"And you had Tommy. Don't you like her?"

"Awfully," said Peter; "I think she wants something now. But do come
across to our side. Aren't you going soon?"

"Yes, when we can get away. Remember, everyone is watching. You go on
out, and we can meet you below."

"Right," said Peter; "I'll collect Donovan."

He found him after a bit, and the two made their adieus and thanks.

As they went down the steps, Jack outlined the campaign. "I just joked to
her about dinner," he said, "but I think they'll rise. If they do, we'll
go to Travalini's, if they dare. That girl of yours is up to anything:
she knows a thing or two. You've some nerve, old thing."

"Nothing to yours," retorted Graham, still not at all sure of himself.
"But, look here, what about Travalini's? I don't know that I care to go
there."

"Oh, it's all right, old dear. You haven't a vast collar on now, and you
ought to see life. I've seen scores of chaplains there, even old Arnold.
I'll look after your morals. Come on; let's get out and across the road.
We shall see them coming down the steps."

The hospital fronted on to the sea and the promenade that once was so
fashionable. The sun was setting, blood red, over the Channel, the ships
at anchor looking dark by contrast. But there was still plenty of light,
and Peter was inwardly conscious of his badges. Still, he told himself
that he was an ass,