“At dinner time,” Jacob suggested. “Only you must promise that you won’t laugh too much at the poor guileless Britisher who would probably have been sharked of a hundred thousand pounds in New York, but for Felix.”
The girl’s eyes danced with pleasure.
“You really mean that he was useful?”
“I can assure you—”
“Chuck that,” the young man interrupted gruffly. “Non-stop run down, I suppose, Mary?”
His sister looked a little dubious.
“I had to stop a few times for repairs,” she admitted, “and two policemen told me I should be summoned for making that awful noise.”
“A wonderful engine,” Felixstowe declared, “but it needs a master hand.”
“It needs a silencer more than anything,” Jacob commented.
“Are you going to ride up with us in the dickey to-morrow?” Lady Mary asked.