It was dark where they were.  Julie lifted her face to him just there.  He thought he had never heard her speak as she spoke now, there, in a London street, under the night sky.  “Peter, my darling,” she said, “my brave boy.  How I love you, Peter!  I know you won’t give me up, Peter, and I adore you for it.  Peter, hell will be heaven with the memory of that!” There, then, he sealed her with his kiss.

* * * * *

Julie stirred in his arms, but the movement did not wake him any more than the knock of the door had done.  “All right,” she called.  “Thank you,” and, leaning over, she switched on the light.  It was 5.30, and necessary.  In its radiance she bent over him, and none of her friends had ever seen her look as she did then.  She kissed him, and he opened his eyes.

“Half-past five, Peter,” she said, as gaily as she could.  “You’ve got to get a move on, my dear.  Two hours to dress and pack and breakfast—­no, I suppose you can do that on the train.  But you’ve got to get there.  Oh, Lord, how it brings the war home, doesn’t it?  Jump up!”

Peter sighed.  “Blast the war!” he said lazily.  “I shan’t move.  Kiss me again, you darling, and let your hair fall over my face.”

She did so, and its glossy curtain hid them.  Beneath the veil she whispered; “Come, darling, for my sake.  The longer you stay here now, the harder it will be.”

He threw his arms round her, and then jumped out of bed yawning.

“That’s it,” she said.  “Now go and shave and bath while I pack for you.  Hurry up; then we’ll get more time.”

While he splashed about she sought for his things, and packed for him as she never packed for herself.  As she gathered them she thought of the night before, when, overwhelmed in a tempest of love, it had all been left for the morning.  She filled the suit-case, but she could not fasten it.

“Come and help, Peter,” she called.

He came out.  She was kneeling on it in her loose kimono, her hair all about her, her nightdress open at the throat.  He drank her beauty in, and then mastered himself for a minute and shut the case.  “That all?” she queried.

“Yes,” he said.  “You get back into bed, my darling, or you’ll catch cold.  I’ll be ready in a second, and then we can have a few minutes together.”

At the glass he marshalled his arguments, and then he came over to her.  He dropped by the bedside and wound his arms about her.  “Julie,” he whispered, “my darling, say you’ll marry me—­please, please!”

She made no reply.  He kissed her, unresisting, again and again.