"Mr. Wingate called for me," she explained. "Taxis are so scarce in our
part of the world on Sunday nights, and when one does happen to know a
man who makes enough money on Friday to buy a fleet of motor-cars on
Saturday--"
"My doing," Kendrick interrupted. "I'm his broker. Did you buy the
Rolls-Royce, Wingate?"
"I brought it away with me, chauffeur and all."
"The most delightful car I ever rode in," Josephine pronounced.
Phipps manoeuvred his way to her side. There was a frown on his forehead
as he leaned towards her.
"So a Rolls-Royce is your favourite make of car, Lady Dredlinton,"
he remarked.
"Absolutely! I can't conceive of anything more comfortable. Mr. Wingate
has promised to let me try it in the country next week."
"So my Wolseley is to be scrapped?" Phipps asked, under his breath.
She looked at him pleasantly enough but with a dangerous light in her
eyes.
"Have you a Wolseley?" she murmured. "Oh, yes, I remember! You offered to
send it around to take me shopping."
"I sent it around three mornings," he replied. "You did not use it once.
You did not even open the note I left inside."
"I am not very fond of using other people's cars," she said.
"It need not be another person's car unless you like," he muttered.
She looked at him for a moment thoughtfully. Phipps was a man of brass,
without sensitiveness or sensibility.
Pages:
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109