"I--no! You misunderstand me. Believe me, I----"
"Ah, don't protest. What does it make or mar, whether or not you
trusted me?... You have," she added quietly, "the jewels safe
enough, I suppose?"
He stopped short, aghast. "I! The jewels!"
"I slipped them in your coat pocket before----"
Instantly her hand was free, Maitland ramming both his own into
the side pockets of his top-coat. "They're safe!"
She smiled uncertainly.
"We have no time," said she. "Can you drive--?"
They were standing by the side of her car, which had been
cunningly hidden in the gloom beneath a spreading tree on the
further side of the road. Maitland, crestfallen, offered his hand;
the tips of her fingers touched his palm lightly as she jumped in.
He hesitated at the step.
"You wish me to?"
She laughed lightly. "Most assuredly. You may assure yourself that
I shan't try to elude you again----"
"I would I might be sure of that," he said, steadying his voice
and seeking her eyes.
"Procrastination won't make it any more assured."
He stepped up and settled himself in the driver's seat, grasping
throttle and steering-wheel; the great machine thrilled to his
touch like a live thing, then began slowly to back out into the
road. For an instant it seemed to hang palpitant on dead center,
then shot out like a hound unleashed, _ventre-a-terre_,--
Brooklyn miles away over the hood.
It seemed but a minute ere they were thundering over the Myannis
bridge.
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