"Who?" I started, bewildered.
"Mercédès."
"I know; the darling! I long to have my hands on her again."
"Oh, Lord Lane, do be careful! You don't understand. I mean the real Mercédès. The girl who gave me the car. She's sitting there. She'll hear you."
"It's all right," said Jack. "The motor's making such a row, she wouldn't catch the words."
"She joined us h—lately," explained Molly hurriedly.
"I remember now. You used to talk rather a lot about her and want us to meet."
"Well, you have your wish now, dearie," Jack chimed in. "You can introduce them with your own fair hand."
"Wait—wait." Molly whispered piteously, as Jack would have taken a step forward, and pulled me with him, a peculiarly dare-devil look in his handsome eyes. "For goodness' sake, Jack!"
Her voice restrained him, and again we were in conclave. "You see, Lord Lane, it's rather awkward. We want you to go on with us, immensely, but––"