She was quick to note the return to his old manner.  He was nervous with her, not sure of himself, and so not sure of her either.  And she traded on it.  At the stationery department she made eyes at a couple of officers, and insisted 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 with a smile.  “It is cold outside,” she said.  “May I have a warm by the fire?”

“Certainly, mademoiselle,” said the girl.  “And monsieur also.  Will it please you to come round here?”