He waved a hand, then, opening the cutout, drove the machine forward and in a moment was out of sight in a cloud of dust.
Markham grinned at the departing vehicle and then, turning, met
Hermia's gleaming eyes.
"O mon ami, it is to laugh!" she cried. "Imagine Clarissa seated in the tonneau of that machine entering the gates of Verneuil! If you have any doubt about getting the better of a Frenchman just set him up to ridicule."
She began laughing again, her eyes on Markham.
"My poor Philidor! Did you think I was about to desert you—and
Clarissa? You were really quite angry for a moment."
"He was impertinent," growled Markham.
"To Hermia—but not to Yvonne."
"You're both."
"Oh, this will never do at all! You mustn't fly at the throat of every man who takes a fancy to me."
"I don't—but the man—is what is called a gentleman. There's a difference." And while she hesitated for a reply.