ows where one
is in it."

"Men often don't," said Julie, "but women make fewer mistakes. Come,
Peter, let's get back. I want the walk, and I want that cosy little
room."

He drained his glass and got up. Suddenly the thought of the physical
Julie ran through him like fire. "Rather!" he said gaily. "So do I,
little girl."

The waiter pulled back the chairs. The padrone came up all bows and
smiles. He hoped the Captain would come again--any time. It was better to
ring up, as they were often very full. A taxi? No? Well, the walk through
the streets was enjoyable after dinner, even now, when the lights were so
few. Good-evening, madame; he hoped everything had been to her liking.

Julie sauntered across the now half-empty little room, and took Peter's
arm in the street. "Do you know the way?" she demanded.

"We can't miss it," he said. "Up here will lead us to Shaftesbury Avenue
somewhere, and then we go down. Sure you want to walk, darling?"

"Yes, and see the people, Peter, I love seeing them. Somehow by night
they're more natural than they are by day. I hate seeing people going to
work in droves, and men rushing about the city with dollars written all
across their faces. At night that's mostly finished with. One can see
ugly things, but some rather beautiful ones as well. Let's cross over.
There are more people that side."

They passed together down the big street. Even the theatres were darkened
to some extent, but taxis were about, and kept depositing their loads of
men and smiling women. The street-walks held Tommies, often plainly with
a sweet-heart from down east; men who sauntered along and scanned the
faces of the women; a newsboy or two; a few loungers waiting to pick up
odd coppers; and here and there a woman by herself. It was the usual
crowd, but they were in the mood to see the unusual in usual things.

In the Circus they lingered a little. Shrouded as it was, an atmosphere
of mystery hung over everything. Little groups that talked for a while
at the corners or made appointments, or met and broke up again, had the
air of conspirators in some great affair. The rush of cars down Regent
Street, and then this way and that, lent colour to the thought, and
it affected both of them. "What's brooding over it all, Julie?" Peter
half-whispered. "Can't you feel that there is something?"

She shrugged her shoulders, and then gave a little shiver. "Love, or what
men take for love," she said.

He clasped the ha