heir
faces, to have a last drink at home and sleep like babies. Women who have
been on nervous tension for months must be able to go there, and allow
their tired senses to drink in the feast of it all, so that they too may
go home and sleep. And in a sense their evening meant all this to Peter
and Julie; but only in a sense.

They both of them bathed in the performance. The possible and impossible
scenes came and went in a bewildering variety, till one had the feeling
that one was asleep and dreaming the incomprehensible jumble of a dream,
and, as in a nice dream, one knew it was absurd, but did not care. The
magnificent, brilliant staging dazzled till one lay back in one's chair
and refused to name the colours to oneself or admire their blending any
more. The chorus-girls trooped on and off till they seemed countless, and
one abandoned any wish to pick the prettiest and follow her through. And
the gay palace of luxury, with its hundreds of splendidly dressed women,
its men in uniform, its height and width and gold and painting, and its
great arching roof, where, high above, the stirring of human hearts still
went on, took to itself an atmosphere and became sentient with humanity.

Julie and Peter were both emotional and imaginative, and they were
spellbound till the notes of the National Anthem roused them. Then, with
the commonplaces of departure, they left the place. "It's so near," said
Julie in the crowd outside; "let's walk again."

"The other pavement, then," said Peter, and they crossed. It was cold,
and Julie clung to him, and they walked swiftly.

At the entrance Peter suggested an hour under the palms, but Julie
pleaded against it. "Why, dear?" she said. "It's so cosy upstairs, and we
have all we want. Besides, the lounge would be an anti-climax; let's go
up."

They went up, and Julie dropped into her chair while Peter knelt to poke
the fire. Then he lit a cigarette, and she refused one for once, and he
stood there looking into the flame.

Julie drew a deep sigh. "Wasn't it gorgeous, Peter?" she said. "I can't
help it, but I always feel I want it to go on for ever and ever. Did you
ever see _Kismet?_ That was worse even than this. I wanted to get up and
walk into the play. These modern things are too clever; you know they're
unreal, and yet they seem to be real. You know you're dreaming, but you
hate to wake up. I could let all that music and dancing and colour go on
round me till I floated away and awa