"I'd drive to hell with Lestrange," he explained sweetly, and settled back in his place.
Ffrench drew a long breath. After a moment he again looked at the driver.
"I'll come," he accepted. "And, thank you."
It was Lestrange who smiled this time, with a sudden and enchanting warmth of mirth.
"We'll try to amuse you," he promised.
II
t was a business consultation that was being held in Mr. Ffrench's firelit library, in spite of the presence of a tea-table and the young girl behind it. A consultation between the two partners who composed the Mercury Automobile Company, of whom the lesser was speaking with a certain anecdotal weight.