She got in, and Peter put his hand on the door. "I've settled everything,
Donovan," he said. "See you to-morrow. Good-night, Tommy."
"Good-night," she called back, and he got in. And next minute he was alone with Julie.
In the closed and darkened taxi he put his arm round her and drew her to him. "Oh, my darling," he murmured. "Julie, do you love me as I love you? I can't live without you." He covered her face with hot kisses, and she kissed him back.
"Julie," he said at length, breathlessly, "listen. My leave's come. I knew this morning. Couldn't you possibly be in England when I am? I saw you first on the boat coming over—remember? And you're due again."
"When do you go?" she queried.
"Fourteenth," he answered.
She considered. "I couldn't get off by then," she said, "but I might the twenty-first or thereabouts. I'm due, as you say, and I think it could be managed."
"Would you?" he demanded, and hung on her words.
She turned her face up to him, and even in the dark he could see her glowing eyes. "It would be heaven, Peter," she whispered.
He kissed her passionately.