Captain Chase swallowed before replying.
“I only meant,” he explained, “that—that she wouldn’t make the running.”
Virginia replied with a noise which cannot be reduced to writing, but was indicative at once of great contempt, loathing, and incredulity. Then, after the manner of one who fears contamination and desires to advertise the fact, she withdrew as far from Captain Chase as the construction of the limousine would allow.
“You seem to forget,” she said coldly, “that Derry is very attractive.”
“I say he’s deceived her,” was the violent reply. “Made her blind or something.”
“Why not face facts?” said Virginia. “She’s been trying to bring this off for weeks and months, and now——”
“It’s false,” roared Roger. “He’s managed to get her alone, an’—an’ . . . . ”
“I see,” said Virginia. “Once aboard the coupé and the girl is mine.” She laughed icily. “The only snag is that it’s her coupé.”
“What if it is?” cried Roger. “He’s waited his chance—that’s all. He’s asked her to give him a lift, an’——”
“Where to? Kingston? We live in Curzon Street—six miles the other way.”