If I were you, I'd be down here early for yours--crowded always, it is.

Of course, you'll dine at the club ?" Peter supposed he would.
The club entrance was full up with officers, and more and more kept pouring in.

Donovan was just leaving the counter on the right with some tickets in his hand as they pushed in.

"See you later," he called out.
"I've got to sleep here, and I want to leave my traps." Peter wondered where, but was too much occupied in keeping well behind the Fusilier to think much.

At a kind of counter a girl in a W.A.A.C.
uniform was serving out tickets of one sort and another, and presently the two of them were before her.