"She's met some other females, weird and woolly things, and she's sitting
down there. No, by Jove! she's looking this way."

He made a half-start forward, and the Major kicked his shins. "Blast!" he
exploded; "why did you do that, you fool?"

"Don't be an infant, Jenko, sit down. You can't start a flirtation across
the blooming deck. Here, padre, can't you keep him in order?"

Peter half raised himself from his chair at this, and glanced the way the
other was looking. Through the crush he saw, clearly enough for a minute,
a girl of medium height in a nurse's uniform, sideways on to him. The
next second she half-turned, obviously smiling some remark to her
neighbour, and he caught sight of clear brown eyes and a little fringe
of dark hair on the forehead of an almost childish face. The eyes met
his. And then a sailor blundered across his field of vision.

"Topping, isn't she?" demanded Jenks, who had apparently been pulled down
into his chair in the interval.

"Oh, I don't know," said Graham, and added deliberately: "Rather
ordinary, I thought."

Jenks stared at him. "Good Lord, padre," he said, "where are your eyes?"

Peter heard a little chuckle behind, and glanced round to see Donovan
staring at him with amusement written all across his face. "You'll do,
padre," he said, taking a pipe from his pocket and beginning to fill it.
Peter smiled and leant back. Probably for the first time in five years he
forgot for a moment what sort of a collar it was around his neck.