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 décolleté 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.