Peter opened the little door of the sideboard and got out decanter, siphon, and glasses.  Julie, sitting up and arranging herself, smiled at him.  “Is there a single thing you haven’t thought of, you old dear?” she said.

“Say when,” said Peter, coming towards her.  Then he poured himself out a tumbler and stood by the fire, looking at her.

“It’s a pity we have to go out at all,” he said, “for I suppose you can’t go like that.”

“A pity?  It’s a jolly good thing.  You wait till you’ve seen my frock, my dear.  But, Peter, do you think there’s likely to be anyone there that we know?”

He shook his head.  “Not there, at any rate,” he said.

“Here?”

“More likely, but it’s such a big place we’re not likely to meet them, even so.  But if you feel nervous, do you know the best cure?  Come down into the lounge, and see the crowd of people.  You sit there and people stream by, and you don’t know a face.  It’s the most comfortable, feeling in the world.  One’s more alone than on a desert island.  You might be a ghost that no one sees.”

Julie shuddered.  “Peter don’t!  You make me feel creepy.”  She got up “Go and find that maid, will you?  I want her to help me dress.”

Peter walked to the bell and rang it, “Where do I come in?” he asked.

“Well, you can go and wash in the bathroom, and if you’re frightened of her you can dress there!” And she walked to the door laughing.

“I’ll just finish my drink,” he said.  “You will be heaps longer than I.”

Five minutes later, having had no answer to his ring, he switched off the light, and walked out into the hall He hesitated at Julie’s door, then he tapped.  “Come in,” she said.

She was standing half-dressed in front of the glass doing her hair, “Oh, it’s you, is it?” she said.  “Wherever is that maid?  I can’t wait all night for her; you’ll have to help.”

Peter sat down and began to change.  Half-surreptitiously he watched Julie moving about, and envied her careless abandon.  He was much the more nervous of the two.

Presently she called him from the bathroom to fasten her dress.  When it was done, she stood back for him to examine her.

“That all right?” she demanded, putting a touch here and there.

Not every woman could have worn her gown.  It was a rose pink with some rich flame-coloured material in front, and was held by two of the narrowest bands on her shoulders.  In the deep decollete she pushed two rosebuds from the big bunch, and hung round her neck a pendant of mother-of-pearl and silver.  She wore no other jewellery, and she needed none.  She faced him, a vision of loveliness.

They went down the stairs together and out into the crush of people, some of the women in evening dress, but few of the men.  The many uniforms looked better, Peter thought, despite the drab khaki.  They had to stand for awhile while a taxi was found, Julie laughing and chatting vivaciously.  She had a wrap for her shoulders that she had bought in Port Said, set with small metallic points, and it sparkled about her in the blaze of light.  She flattered him by seeming unconscious of anyone else, and put her hand on his arm as they went out.