All the violence of George's nature came to the surface as he said brutally:
"Of course you could!"
"I tell you I couldn't!" she cried. "I knew the car wouldn't be there for us until after the Prix du Cadran. And if I'd told you I couldn't have borne to be walking about that place three-quarters of an hour. We should have had to talk about it. I couldn't have borne that. And so you needn't be cross, please."
But her voice did not break, nor her eyes shine.
"I was wondering whether I should tell the chauffeur at once, or let him find it out."
"I should let him find it out," said George. "He doesn't know that you know. Besides, it might upset his driving."
"Oh! I shouldn't mind about his driving," Lois murmured disdainfully.
V
When the uninformed chauffeur drove the car with a grand sweep under the marquise of the ostentatious pale yellow block in the Avenue Hoche where Irene Wheeler had had her flat, Mr. Ingram and a police-agent were standing on the steps, but nobody else was near. Little Mr. Ingram came forward anxiously, his eyes humid, and his face drawn with pain and distress.
"