"I believe that girl is sweeping the room," said Peter. "Am I to appear like this? You must remember that we're not in France."
"Put on a dressing-gown then. You haven't got one here? Then put on my kimono; you'll look exceedingly beautiful…. Really, Peter, you do. Our island will have to be Japan, because kimonos suit you. But I shall never live to reach it if you don't order that breakfast."
Peter departed, and had a satisfactory interview with the telephone in the presence of the maid. He returned with a cigarette between his lips, smiling, and Julie turned to survey him.
"Peter, come here. Have you kissed that girl? I believe you have! How dare you? Talk about being shameless, with me here in the next room!"
"I thought you never minded such things, Julie. You've told me to kiss girls before now. And you said that you'd always allow your husband complete liberty—now, didn't you?"
Julie sat down on the bed and heaved a mock sigh. "What incredible creatures are men!" she exclaimed. "Must I mean everything I say, Solomon? Is there no difference between this flat and that miserable old hotel in Caudebec? And last, but not least, have you promised to forsake all other and cleave unto me as long as we both shall live? If you had promised it, I'd know you couldn't possibly keep it; but as it is, I have hopes."
This was too much for Peter. He dropped into the position that she had grown to love to see him in, and he put his arms round her waist, looking up at her laughingly. "But you will marry me, Julie, won't you?" he demanded.
Before his eyes, a lingering trace of that old look crept back into her face. She put her hands beneath his chin, and said no word, till he could stand it no longer.
"Julie, Julie, my darling," he said, "you must."
"Must, Peter?" she queried, a little wistfully he thought.