In the entrance-hall, however, a girl was apparently waiting for someone, and as they passed Peter recognised her. "Louise!" he exclaimed.
She smiled and held out her hand. Peter took it, and Pennell after him.
"Do you go now?" she asked them. "The concert is not half finished."
"I've got to get back to work," said Pennell, "worse luck. It is la guerre, you know!"
"Poor boy!" said she gaily. "And you?" turning to Peter.
Moved by an impulse, he shook his head. "No," he said, "I was only seeing him home."
"Bien! See me home instead, then," said Louise.
"Nothing doing," said Peter, using a familiar phrase.
She laughed. "Bah! cannot a girl have friends without that, eh? You have a fiancée, 'ave you not? Oh yes, I remember—I remember very well. Come! I have done for to-day; I am tired. I will make you some coffee, and we shall talk. Is it not so?"
Peter looked at Pennell. "Do you mind, Pen?" he asked. "I'd rather like to."