"What d'you mean?" she said, feeling in her bag for a handkerchief.
"I have a plan," said I mysteriously. "Can't you find it?"
She felt in the pocket of her coat and turned to the bag again.
"I'm afraid my maid must have—"
I took a spare handkerchief from my breast-pocket.
"Would you care to honour me by using this to—er—"
"Go on," she said, taking it with a smile.
"To brush away some of the prettiest tears—"
She laughed exquisitely, put the handkerchief to her eyes, and then smiled her thanks over the white cambric. I let down the window nearest me and put out my head. A long look assured me that we were nearing Ringley. My idea was to pull the cord, stop the train in the station, pay the fine, and raise a car in the town, which should bring us to Rory in forty minutes by road.
"But what are you going to do?" said the girl.