tea
from splashing on the counter. Such a large majority of the men took
tea that she had to tell them that there was coffee. "Tea or coffee?"
she would ask, with quickly raised eyes. "We have both."

There was on these occasions no opportunity for any conversation with
the men. Their time was too limited for speech, and she was too busy
to distinguish one khaki-clad figure from another. It was only a pair
of eyes which she met now and then, when it was possible to raise hers
from the extended cup she was refilling. More than once her
blue-enamelled jug ran dry, and impatient men had to wait while she
replenished it from one of the big urns which were steaming on the
shelf behind her. When the jug was quite full, it was so heavy to hold
extended, that she had to exercise care not to spill some of its
contents on the sandwiches and cake. It was exceptionally difficult
not to spill any of it when cups were held high up to be refilled.

One tall man, a late-comer, had with difficulty pushed his way forward;
he was waiting to be served. He held up his cup, thinking that it
would make it easier for Margaret to reach it. Before filling it, she
recollected to say, "Would you rather have some coffee?"

She raised her eyes as she spoke. Some curious sense of the man's more
refined personality had made her think that coffee might appeal to him.
As she did so, Michael's Irish-blue eyes gazed back into hers.

For a moment the world stood still for Margaret. Her poor heart beat
so quickly that her hand gave a spasmodic shake, with the result that a
considerable quantity of the tea from the enamelled jug splashed over
the brim and drenched a plate of scones.

Michael had not spoken, nor could Margaret. What she had waited so
long to ask him could not be called out over a dozen eager heads.

A kilted Scot, broad-faced and broad-kneed, had pushed himself in front
of Michael, who recognized that it was his duty to step back from the
counter now that his cup was full, and allow the man just behind him to
get his chance.

Margaret had to go on filling white cups with tea. She dared not even
raise her eyes to see if she could catch sight of Michael above the
crowd of khaki figures. It was hopeless now, for another train had
brought in a fresh batch of weary, cold, homesick men, all eager for a
hot cup of tea. Most of the first-comers had already disappeared; one
or two of them were hastily addressing with pen and ink