seized from him as if he had been a pickpocket, and thrust them under her arm.
"Oh, please go away!" moaned the cook.
"Come upstairs," said Patricia as she led the way out of the kitchen, to the relief of those whose reawakened modesty saw in Bowen's presence an outrage to decorum. Switching on the light in the lounge, Patricia threw herself into a chair. She was beginning to feel the reaction.
"Why did you come?" she asked.
"I heard that a bomb had fallen in this street and—well, I had to come. I was never in such a funk in all my life."
"How did you get round here; did you bring the car?"
"No, I couldn't get the car out, I walked it," said Bowen briefly.
"That was very sweet of you," said Patricia gratefully, looking up at him in a way she had never looked at him before. "And now I think you must be going. We must all go to bed again."
"Yes, the 'All Clear' will sound soon, I think," replied Bowen.
They moved out into the hall. For a moment they stood looking at each other, then Bowen took both her hands in his. "I am so glad, Patricia," he said, gazing into her eyes, then suddenly he bent down and kissed her full on the lips.
Dropping her hands and without another word he picked up his cap and let himself out, leaving
