Hugh drew into the side of the road, and switched off the engine.
“You’re not fair,” he remarked, and if the girl saw his hand trembling a little as he opened the door, she gave no sign. Only her breath came a shade faster, but a mere man could hardly be expected to notice such a trifle as that....
He came and stood beside her, and his right arm lay along the seat just behind her shoulders.
“You’re not fair,” he repeated gravely. “I haven’t swerved like that since I first started to drive.”
“Tell me about this important thing,” she said a little nervously.
He smiled, and no woman yet born could see Hugh Drummond smile without smiling too.
“You darling!” he whispered, under his breath—“you adorable darling!” His arm closed around her, and, almost before she realised it, she felt his lips on hers. For a moment she sat motionless, while the wonder of it surged over her, and the sky seemed more gloriously blue, and the woods a richer green. Then, with a little gasp, she pushed him away.
“You mustn’t ... oh! you mustn’t, Hugh,” she whispered.
“And why not, little girl?” he said exultingly. “Don’t you know I love you?”
“But look, there’s a man over there, and he’ll see.”