“Meant to do?”
The countryman came a step nearer.
“I keep thinking about it,” he said in a half whisper. “This is the queer thing about it, miss. That there car didn’t start till I got to the foot of the hill! The engine was just racing, and the car wasn’t moving along—I know that. It was as if he’d been waiting up there for me, and then down he came as if he meant”—the speaker paused again—“to kill me,” he ended.
“But—” Lexy began, and then stopped.
She had a very odd feeling that this story was somehow of great importance to her, but that she must put it away, that she must keep it in her mind until later. This wasn’t the time to think about it.
“Joe,” she said, “I want to hear more about this—all about it; but not now. I’m too tired.”
He gave himself a shake, like a dog. Then he turned to her with a slow, good-natured smile.
“I guess you are!” he said. “Lucky[Pg 344] for you I just happened to be late to-night, taking them Ainsly girls ’way out to their house after a dance. Hop in, miss!”
Lexy got in, and they set off. She leaned back and closed her eyes, but they flew open again as if of their own accord. There was something she wanted to see. Through the glass she could see Joe’s burly shoulders, a little hunched—Joe, who, like herself, wasn’t sure.
“Not now!” said something inside her. “Don’t think about that now. Try not to think at all. Wait! Something is going to happen.”