"I should be frightened at the great speed."
"Oh, I will run very slowly, I promise you."
She seemed to hesitate and Markham's head slowly turned toward her, a wonder growing in his eyes. Could she? Did she really think of going? She looked at the machine and then at Markham and Clarissa.
"I will go—upon one condition," she announced.
"Mademoiselle has but to name it."
"And that is, Monsieur, that you will also carry in your automobile
Monsieur Philidor and the donkey."
He looked at her a moment as if he hadn't believed his own ears, while his companion burst into wild laughter.
"Touché, mon ami," he cried, clapping the chauffeur on the back. "My faith, but she has a pretty wit—the donkey and Monsieur Philidor—par exemple!" And he roared with laughter again.
The man at the wheel flecked his cigarette into the bushes, smiling with as good grace as he could command.
"You have many chaperons, Mademoiselle," he said. "It is too bad. I shall remember your beaux yeux, just the same."