selves. Don't you see, Tabs, we men and girls have got to find
out afresh who we are? We've almost forgotten."

She seemed to have made an end, when something else occurred to her. She
recommenced hurriedly, "We women have been spendthrifts, too; we've
given away more than was wise--little bits of ourselves, not always to
the one man--sometimes in the wrong directions. But which is the right
direction? When people who were risking so much for us begged for a
little of our affection, we never thought of that. We simply gave
recklessly--little bits of ourselves. Now that we've regained a future,
with room for remorse and things like that, we've become suddenly
cautious. The swing of the pendulum----" She turned to him, as though
proffering a smile for his forgiveness, "It's our sudden caution that
makes us seem mean and ungracious. But I _was_ tremendously interested
about meeting you."

"Interested! Not glad or ecstatic. It's a long road from dreams to
facts."

"Yes."

She said it humbly. He tried to catch the expression in her eyes, but
all he saw was the flickering gold of her hair as the wind tossed it
against the rounded whiteness of her neck. His brain kept muttering,
"Little bits of herself! What did she mean by that?"

A barrel-organ was grinding out a tune; children danced in the sunshine
on the pavement. As they flashed down the street the music followed
them. She twisted to look back and he caught her eyes. "Tabs, do you
know what it's playing?"

"Can't say I do."

"It's out of the Elsie Janis revue at The Palace. I think it was written
especially for this moment." She listened till the air reached the
refrain and then sang the words, "_Apres la guerre, there'll be a good
time everywhere_."

His stern face relaxed at her childishness. "Will there, Terry? I hope
so. Musical chaps aren't reliable authorities. They're----"

"You must _know_ so," she interrupted valiantly. Then, forgetting her
caution, she slipped her small gloved fingers into the palm of his big
brown hand. "You _must_. Even though I disappoint you ever so badly,
you must know so, dear Tabs. You must seize your own good time at
whatever cost. One girl isn't all the world."

V

"I wonder whether what we've been saying explains Adair."

They were crossing one of the bridges over the Thames. He wasn't sure
which one. Moreover, he didn't care; it was enough for him that,
wherever they were going, they were going together--racing into