A somewhat sardonic gleam shot into Mr. Amberley's eyes. "A stranger to these parts yourself, no doubt?"
She moved her head and he saw her face for a moment, a pale oval with a mouth he thought sulky. "Yes, I am. Practically. Anyway, I've never heard of Greythorne. Good night."
This was pointed enough, but Mr. Amberley ignored it. His own manners were, his family informed him, abrupt to the point of rudeness, and the girl's surliness rather pleased him. "Tax your brain a little further," he requested. "Do you know the way to Upper Nettlefold?"
The brim of her hat threw a shadow over her eyes, but he was sure that she glowered at him. "You ought to have taken a turning to the left about a mile back," she informed him.
"Damn!" said Mr. Amberley. "Thanks." He sat back in his seat and took out the clutch.
To turn the car in this narrow lane was not easy. He drove on till he was clear of the Austin and began his manoeuvres. After considerable trouble he got the Bentley round, its head-lamps illuminating the girl and the Austin in two brilliant shafts of light. As the car swung round she flinched, as though the sudden blaze of light startled her. Mr. Amberley saw her face, chalk-white, for a moment before she averted it.
Instead of straightening up the car he kept it stationary, his foot hard on the clutch, his hand mechanically grasping the gear-lever. The headlights were directed full into the smaller car and showed Mr. Amberley something queer. There was a small hole in the windscreen, with splinters radiating out from it in a star shape. He leaned forward over the wheel, staring.
"Who's in that car?" he said sharply.
The girl moved quickly, shutting the interior of the Austin from Mr. Amberley's keen scrutiny. "What has it got to do with you?" she said breathlessly. "I've told you the way to Upper Nettlefold. Why don't you go?
Mr. Amberley pushed the gear-lever into neutral and put on his brake. He got out of the car and strode towards the girl. Now that he was close to her he saw that she was good-looking, a fact that did not interest him, and exceedingly nervous, a fact that aroused all his suspicions.