on examining Kirschner picture-postcards, some of
which she would not show him. "You can't possibly be seen looking at them
with those badges up," she whispered. "Dear me, if only Donovan were
here! He wouldn't mind, and I don't know which packet I like best. These
have got very little on, Peter--_very_ little, but I'm not sure that they
are not more decent than those. It's _much_ worse than a camisole,
you know...."

Peter was horribly conscious that the men were smiling at her. "Julie,"
he said desperately, "_do_ be sensible, just for a minute. We must get
those menu-cards."

"Well, you go and find the books," she said merrily. "I told you you
ought not to watch me buy these. I'll take the best care of myself," and
she looked past him towards the men.

Peter gave it up. "Julie," he said savagely, "if you make eyes any more,
I'll kiss you here and now--I swear I will."

Julie laughed her little nearly silent chuckle, and looked at him. "I
believe you would, Peter," she said, "and I certainly mustn't risk that.
I'll be good. Are those the books? Fetch me a chair, then, and I'll look
through them."

He bent over her as she turned the leaves. She wore a little toque that
had some relation to a nurse's uniform, but was distinctive of Julie. Her
fringe of brown hair lay along her forehead, and the thick masses of the
rest of it tempted him almost beyond endurance. "How will that do?" she
demanded, her eyes dancing. "Oh, do look at the cards and not at me!
You're a terrible person to bring shopping, Peter!"

The card selected, she had a bright idea. "What about candle-shades?" she
queried. "We can't trust the hotel. I want some with violets on them: I
love violets."

"Do you?" he said eagerly. "That's just what I wanted to know. Yes, it's
a fine idea; let's go and get them."

Outside, she gave a sigh of relief, and looked at the little gold
wrist-watch on her arm. "We've time," she said. "Take me to tea."

"You must know it's not possible," he said. "They're enforcing the order,
and one can't get tea anywhere."

She shook her head at him. "I think, Peter," she said, "you'll never
learn the ropes. Follow me."

Not literally, but metaphorically, he followed her. She led him to a big
confectioner's with two doors and several windows, in each of which was a
big notice of the new law forbidding teas or the purchase of chocolates.
Inside, she walked up to a girl who was standing by a counter, and who
greeted her wit