patches of dim stars. He could make out,
across the empty Green Park, the huge silhouette of Buckingham Palace,
and beyond that the tower of Westminster Cathedral. To his left he
could see part of a courtyard or small square, with a fore-shortened
black figure, no doubt a policeman, carrying a flash-lamp. The
tree-lined Mall seemed to be utterly deserted. But Piccadilly showed
a line of faint stationary lights and still fainter moving lights.
A mild hum and the sounds of motor-horns and cab-whistles came from
Piccadilly, where people were abroad in ignorance that the raid was
not really over. All the heavens were continually restless with long,
shifting rays from the anti-aircraft stations, but the rays served
only to prove the power of darkness.

Then he heard quick, smooth footsteps. Two figures, one behind the
other, approached him, almost running, eagerly, girlishly, with
little cries. The first was Queen, who wore a white skirt and a very
close-fitting black jersey. Concepcion also wore a white skirt and a
very close-fitting black jersey, but with a long mantle hung loosely
from the shoulders. Both were bareheaded.

"Isn't it splendid, G.J.?" Queen burst out enthusiastically. Again
G.J. had the sensation of being at sea--perhaps on the deck of a
yacht. He felt that rain ought to have been beating on the face of the
excited and careless girl. Before answering, he turned up the collar
of his overcoat. Then he said:

"Won't you catch a chill?"

"I'm never cold," said Queen. It was true. "I shall always come up
here for raids in future."

"You seem to be enjoying it."

"I love it. I love it. I only thought of it to-night. It's the next
best thing to being a man and being at the Front. It _is_ being at the
Front."

Her face was little more than a pale, featureless oval to him in the
gloom, but he could divine from the vibrations of her voice that she
was as ecstatic as a young maid at her first dance.

"And what about that business interview that you've just asked for on
the 'phone?" G.J. acidly demanded.

"Oh, we'll come to that later. We wanted a man here--not to save us,
only to save us from ourselves--and you were the best we could think
of, wasn't he, Con? But you've not heard about my next bazaar, G.J.,
have you?"

"I thought it was a Pageant."

"I mean after that. A bazaar. I don't know yet what it will be for,
but I've got lots of the most topping ideas for it. For instance, I'm
going to have a F