nk?" The
girl by him reached over and touched a bell. As she did so, Peter saw the
curls that clustered on her neck and caught the perfume of her hair. It
was penetrating and peculiar, but not distasteful, and it did all that it
was meant to do. He bent, and kissed the back of her neck, still
marvelling at himself.

She straightened herself, smiling. "That is better. You aren't so cold as
you pretended, cherie. Now kiss me properly," and she held up her face.

Peter kissed her lips. Before he knew it, a pair of arms were thrown
about his neck, and he was being half-suffocated with kisses. He tore
himself away, disgusted and ashamed.

"No!" he cried sharply, but knowing that it was too late.

The girl threw herself back, laughing merrily, "Oh, you are funny!" she
said. "Lucienne, take your boy away; I want to talk to mine."

Before he could think of a remonstrance, it was done. Pennell and the
other girl got up from the bed where they had been whispering together,
and left the room. "Pennell!" called Peter, too late again, jumping up.
The girl ran round him, pushed the door to, locked it, and dropped the
key down the neck of her dress. "Voila!" she said gaily.

There came a knock on the door. "Non, non!" she cried in French. "Take
the wine to Mlle. Lucienne; I am busy."

Peter walked across the room to her. "Give me the key," he said, holding
out his hand, and changing his tactics. "Please do. I won't go till my
friend comes back. I promise."

The girl looked at him. "You promise? But you will 'ave to find it."

He smiled and nodded, and she walked deliberately to the bed, undid the
front of her costume, and slipped it off. Bare necked and armed, she
turned to him, holding open the front of her chemise. "Down there," she
said.

It was a strange moment and a strange thing, but a curious courage came
back to Peter in that second. Without hesitation, he put his hand down
and sought for the key against her warm body. He found it, and help it
up, smiling. Then he moved to the door, pushed the key in the keyhole,
and turned again to the girl. "There!" he said simply.

With a gesture of abandon, she threw herself on the bed, propping her
cheek on her hand and staring at him. He sat down where Pennell had sat,
but made no attempt to touch her, leaning, instead, back and away against
the iron bed-post. She pulled up her knees, flung her arms back, and
laughed. "And now, monsieur?" she said.

Peter had never felt so