It was a lavish meal for wartime, with hot, golden cornbread replacing white bread, this being a wheatless day-and firmest discipline (administered by Nancy and Brian Junior) requircd that every morsel accepted must be eaten, with admonitions about hungry Belgians. Lazarus did not care what he ate but remembered to compliment the cooks (three), and tried to answer all that was said to him-nearly impossible as Brian and George wanted to tell about their troop's drive to collect walnut shells and peach pits and how many it took for each gas mask, and Marie had to be allowed to boast that she could knit just as well as George could and she did not either drop stitches!-and how many squares it took to make a blanket, while Gramp wanted to talk shop with Lazarus and had to be stern to get a word in edgewise.

Maureen Smith seemed to find it unnecessary to talk. She smiled and looked happy, but it seemed to Lazarus that there was tension under her self-control-the ages-old strain of Penelope. (For me, darling? No, of course not. I wish I could tell you that Pop will come back, unharmed. But how could I make you believe that I know? You're going to ,have to sweat it out the way Penelope did. I'm sorry, my love.) "Excuse me, Carol- I missed that."

"I said it's perfectly horrid that you have to go back so soon! When you're just about to go 'Over There.'"

"But it's quite a lot, Carol, in wartime. It's just that getting here and getting back eats up so much time. I'm not entitled to special privileges; I don't know that I am about to ship out."

There was silence around the table, and the older boys exchanged glances.

Ira Johnson broke it by saying gently, "Sergeant, the children know what a pass in the middle of the week means. But they don't talk; they are disciplined. My son-in-law decided-wisely, I think-not to keep things from them unnecessarily."

"But, Grandpa, when Papa has leave, he doesn't go back next day. It's not fair."

"That's because," Brian Junior said wisely, "Papa usually rides with Captain Bozell in that big ol' Marmon Six and they burn up the road. Staff Sergeant Uncle Ted, I could drive' you back to camp. Then you wouldn't have to leave till later tomorrow night."

"Thank you, Brian-but I don't think we'd better. If I catch the train we call the 'Reveille Special' tomorrow evening, I'm safe even-if the train is a bit late, and this is one time I'm not going to risk being over leave."

"I agree with Sergeant Bronson," Gramp added, "and that settles it, Brian. Ted can't risk being late. I see that I had better move along, too. Daughter, if I may be excused?"

"Certainly, Father."

"Sergeant Johnson, may I drive you to your parade ground? Or wherever it is?"

"To the Armory. No, no, Ted, my captain picks me up and brings me home; he and I go early and stay late. Mrrph. Why don't you take Maureen for a spin? She hasn't been out of the house for a week; she's getting pale."

"Mrs. Smith? I'd be honored."

"We'll all go!"

"George," his grandfather said firmly, "the idea is to give your mother an hour free of the pressure and noise of children."

"Sergeant Ted promised to play chess with me!"

"Woodie, I heard what he said. He did not set a time...and he'll be here tomorrow."

"And he promised to take me to Electric Park a long, long, long time ago, and he never did!"

"Woodie, I'm sorry about that," Lazarus answered, "but the war came along before the park opened. We may have to wait until the war is over."

"But you said-"

"Woodrow," his mother said firmly, "stop that. This is Sergeant Theodore's leave, not yours."

"And get that sulky look off your face," added his grandfather, "before we form a regimental square and have you flogged around the flagpole. Nancy? Charge-of-quarters, dear."

"But-" The oldest girl shut up.

"Father, Nancy's young man is about to reach his birthday and is not going to wait to be drafted, I think I told you. So some of the young people are giving him a surprise party tonight."

"Oh, yes-slipped my mind.' Fine young man, Ted; you would approve of him. Correction, Nancy; you're off duty. Carol?"

"Carol and I can take care of anything," Brian answered. "Can't we, Carol? My night to wash, Marie wipes, George's turn to put away. Bedtimes by the schedules, emergency telephone numbers on the blackboard-we know the standing orders."

"May I be excused, too, then?" said Nancy. "Staff Sergeant Ted-you will be here tomorrow. Won't you?"

Lazarus went out to the curb to meet Gramp's militia captain. When he came in, Maureen had gone upstairs. He grabbed the chance to freshen up in the bath off the quondam sewing room. Fifteen minutes later he was handing Mrs. Smith into the front seat of the landaulet, himself dizzied by her wonderful fragrance. Had she managed to bathe again in twenty minutes or so? It seemed like it; she had certainly changed clothes. These wartime styles were startling; as he handed her in Lazarus caught a glimpse not only of trim ankle but quite a lot of shapely calf. He was shaken by the thrill it gave him.

How long would this dress cycle last? While he cranked the car, he tried to quiet himself by thinking about it. Corsets disappeared right after this war, and skirts went up and up all during the Torrid Twenties, the "Jazz Age." Then women's styles varied all through this century but with a steady trend toward letting men see more and more of "what they were fighting for." But social nudity, even in swimming, did not become really common until the end of the century, so he seemed to recall. Then a puritan reaction the following century-a horrid time he had fled from.

What would Maureen think if he tried to tell her any of it?

The engine caught; he got in beside her. "Where would you like to go, Mrs. Smith?"

"Oh, out south. Somewhere quiet."

"South it is." Lazarus glanced at the setting sun, turned on his headlights. He made a U-turn and headed south.

"But my name is not 'Mrs. Smith', Theodore...when we are alone."

"Thank you...Maureen." Straight out to Thirty-ninth- then over to the Paseo? Or Prospect and out as far as Swope Park? Would she let him take her that far? Oh, for a thousand miles of open road and Maureen beside me!

"I like the way you say my name, Theodore. Do you remember where you took the children for a picnic not long before the war started?"

"Near the Blue River. You want to go there, Maureen?"

"Yes. If you don't remember the way, I can guide you; I suggested it for that picnic."

"We'll find it."

"It need not be that spot...but somewhere quiet-and private. Where you need not give your attention to driving."

(Hey! Maureen, my darling, you don't want us to be too private-I might shock you dreadfully. Private enough for a good-bye kiss-fine! Then let's deliver you home safe and sound. You are this century, my sweet! rd rather have one kiss-and your love and respect-than entice you into more aid have you think of me with regret. I decided that many months ago. You darling.)

"I should turn here?"

"Yes. Theodore, Brian Junior said that the new throttle he installed made it possible to drive with one hand."

"Yes, that's true."

"Then do drive with one hand. Is that plain enough, or must I be still more bold?"

Cautiously he put his arm across her shoulders. She promptly reached up, took his hand, pulled it down, and pressed it to her breast, saying quietly, "We haven't time to be shy, dear Theodore. Don't be afraid to touch me."

Firm-soft breast. Nipple erect to his touch. She shivered and got closer to him, again pressed her hand to his and gave a tiny moan. Lazarus said huskily, "I love you, Maureen."