“On a 'rest-seeking expedition'?” she repeated. “Doctor Burns, are you sure you hadn't better go on that alone? Suppose I chatter all the way?”
He smiled. “You're not a chatterer. And I don't want to go alone. I haven't had a chance for an hour with you for a month, I think. This is the only way I can get it. Will you go?”
“You provoke my curiosity. Yes, I think I'll go. I've been shopping all the morning and I deserve a reward of rest, if you're sure you know where to find it.”
He turned the Imp abruptly aside from the boulevard leading out of town down which they had been speeding. He made a detour of certain side streets which brought him up before a small side establishment bearing a sign which set forth an alluring invitation to motoring parties in need of food. He disappeared therein, and was absent for the space of a full twenty minutes. When he returned he was followed by a waiter with a hamper to whose bestowal in the back of the car he looked carefully.
As they sped away again, Burns turned to his companion, a smile of anticipation on his face, to meet a glance of some apprehension.
“You're not repenting your rash trust of me already, are you?” he demanded.
“I'm remembering that Martha has four guests at luncheon to-day, and expects me to be there!”
“Is that all? Don't let that worry you. We'll simply have a breakdown somewhere on the road conveniently near to a spot I know, where I can broil the beefsteak I have in that hamper, and make the coffee. 'Unavoidable detention' will be your apology.”
“'Irresistible temptation' will be my confession,” she admitted. “I'm not good at subterfuge and I'm so hungry that the mere mention of beefsteak out-of-doors—”
“If it weighs against the plates and salads of a woman's luncheon I shall have a great respect for you. Come on, let's run away! You from social duties, I from professional ones. I'll agree to stand out Martha in your defense. Unless, of course, the opportunity to wear a pretty frock and throw all the other women in the shade—”