Each carried a handbag and one a tasselled stick.

"Good-night, cherie," said one, as they passed.
Peter gave a little shudder.

"How ghastly!" he said.

"How can anyone speak to them?
Are there many like that about ?" He glanced back again: "Why, good heavens," he cried, "one's Marie!" "Hullo, padre," said his friend, the ghost of a smile beginning about his lips.

"Where have you been?
Marie! By Jove! I shall have to report you to the A.C.G." Peter blushed furiously.