nly, as he took a seat
somewhat further removed from temptation.

"My dear Derek, it would take more than a mere European war to make
some leopards I know of change their spots."

In spite of himself Vane laughed. "Well, dash it, Margaret, there was
a distinct flavour of the pre-war about you last night."

She closed her eyes, and her hands clenched. "Oh! don't, Derek; don't,
please. As long as I live I shall never forget it. It was too
horrible." She turned away from him shuddering.

"Dear--I'm sorry." He leaned forward and took her hand. "I didn't
realise quite what it must mean to you. You see it was that poor boy
who was dying in the bed opposite mine that made me jumpy . . .
frightened . . . God knows what! The smash up of the raid itself left
me almost cold by comparison. . . . I suppose it was the other way
round with you. . . . It's just a question of what one is used
to--anyway, don't let's talk about it."

For a while they sat in silence, and then Vane spoke again. "You know
I'm crossing to-morrow, I suppose?"

"Yes." Margaret nodded. "I didn't think you'd stop long."

"Are you sorry I'm going?"

"Of course I am," she answered simply. "You know that. . . . But I
think perhaps it's just as well."

"Just as well!" repeated Vane. "Why?"

"Because . . . oh! because of a lot of things. You'd interfere with my
work for one."

"How dreadful," said Vane with mock gravity. "You'd mix the medicines
and all that, I suppose." Then he turned to her impulsively.
"Margaret, my dear, what does it matter? This work of yours won't go
on for ever. And after the War, what then?"

"That's just it," she said slowly. "What then?"

"Well, as a preliminary suggestion--why not marry me?"

She laughed--a low, rippling laugh.

"Do you remember what you said to me in the tea shop yesterday about
not having seen a girl for six months?"

"What on earth has that got to do with it?" said Vane frowning. "I'm
not a child or a callow boy. Do you suppose at my age I don't know my
own mind? Why, my dear girl. . . ." Her eyes met his, and the words
died away on his lips.

"Don't, dear, don't. You're insulting both our intelligences." With a
slight laugh she leaned over and rested her hand on his. "You know
perfectly well what I mean."

Vane grunted non-committally. He undoubtedly did know what she meant,
but at that moment it was annoying to find she knew it too. . . .

"Listen, Derek; I want