at
which she had been unpicking fell to her feet. She glanced at her
hands, as much as to say, "They aren't very clean." Michael held out
his, ignoring her hesitation, and gave her slender, artist's fingers a
hearty shake and warm grasp.

The old actress's emotions were kindled; poverty had not dimmed the
romance of her world.

"You'll do, sir," she said. "You'll do--you'll do for the sweetest and
truest lady that lives in London town."

"We have your blessing, then?" he said gaily. "And you'll look after
her when I'm at the Front--promise me that?"

"That I will, sir. But it's she who looks after me, and more than me."
She cast her eyes round the strange neighbourhood. "Looks after us and
helps us in a hundred different ways." But she was speaking to
Michael's retreating figure, for Margaret and her lover had left her.
As she watched his swinging strides, she murmured to herself, "He'll
do for her--there's no mistaking his kind. He'll do for her." Her
thoughts flew to familiar scenes. "There was something in his voice
which reminded me of . . ." she recalled a celebrated actor. "He would
make a fine Hamlet, a heavenborn Hamlet."

As they left the gardens Margaret said, "I have a feeling, Mike, that
someone has been watching us ever since we came into the gardens--have
you?"

"No," Michael said. "I hadn't any eyes or ears for anything but you."

Margaret smiled. "I felt it," she said, "rather than saw it. But,
just this minute, didn't you see that dark figure?"

"No. Anyhow, let them watch--I don't care. Everybody's doing it."
His arm was round her.

Meg laughed, but not so whole-heartedly, and when she was saying
good-bye to him at the hospital, she said, nervously and anxiously,
"There's that black figure again--she's just passed us. I saw her
yesterday--she watched me go in after my hours on."

In spite of that fact, Margaret kissed her Tommy quite openly and
flagrantly and in the broad daylight. She had promised to walk with
him again on the next afternoon during her hours off, and to marry him
the day after, if he got the licence and she got her leave.

When they had parted she said to herself, "Ours will be a war-wedding
with a vengeance! When I went out for my two hours this afternoon I
was absolutely free, not even engaged. Now," she blushed beautifully,
"I am the bride-elect of a Tommy home on leave for a fortnight!"

After her day's work was done, she tried to find the busy