“Is the Enemy here—now?” she questioned anxiously.
“No,” he smiled. “Not here. I drove away from him in an enchanted brougham.”
Jane straightened and looked into the fire.
“Phil.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve told Nellie Pennington and—and mother.”
He folded his arms and gazed steadily into the fire.
“What did they say?”
“Nellie Pennington was pleased; mother was not,” she said frankly.
“I’m sorry to hear that. But I could hardly have expected——”