"Mr. Wrandall ordered the limousine, sir," said the chauffeur.
"Oh, I see. Keeps it on hand for rainy days, I suppose."
"It's Mrs. Wrandall's idea," explained the man. "Women are fussy about their hair. We always have a limousine handy."
"It is a handy thing to have about," said Mr. Smith drily, as he looked out of the corner of his eye and remarked the two men behind him. They were in very close conversation.
"The boss usually takes the other car. He likes the wind in his face, he says. I don't know why he ordered the limousine to-day."
"Probably there's something in the wind to-day he doesn't like," remarked Smith, after which he devoted himself assiduously to the road ahead, not being a practiced motorist.
As they were ascending the steps in Sara's exotic garden, Smith ventured a somewhat sinister remark.
"These steps are not good for a man with a weak heart, Mr. Wrandall. I hope yours is sound."
"Quite, Mr. Smith. Have no fear," said Mr. Wrandall, with an acute sense of divination. "You will also find it to be in the right place."
"Umph," said Mr. Smith.