"I tell you what: I'll meet you at the cross-roads below the hospital and bring you on.

Will that do?
What time?
Five-thirty ?" "Heavens! do you dine at five-thirty ?" demanded Julie.
"Well, not quite, but we've got to get down," said Peter, laughing.
"All right," said Julie, "five-thirty, and the saints preserve us.

Look here, I shall chance it and come in mufti if possible.

No one knows me here." "Splendid!" said Peter.

"Good-bye, five-thirty." "Good-bye," said Langton; "we'll go and arrange our menu." "There must be champagne," called Julie merrily over her shoulder, and catching his eye.
The two men watched her make for the car across the sunlit square, then they strolled round it towards a cafe.