Val gave the Ford full rein; he still drove like a man in a new country on bad roads, who refuses to compromise, and expects heaven at every hole.
“That's a young woman who knows her way about,” he said. “I say, has it struck you?”
“Yes,” said Holly.
“Uncle Soames and your Dad—bit awkward, isn't it?”
“She won't know, and he won't know, and nothing must be said, of course. It's only for five days, Val.”
“Stable secret! Righto!” If Holly thought it safe, it was. Glancing slyly round at him, she said: “Did you notice how beautifully she asked herself?”
“No!”
“Well, she did. What do you think of her, Val?”
“Pretty and clever; but she might run out at any corner if she got her monkey up, I should say.”
“I'm wondering,” Holly murmured, “whether she is the modern young woman. One feels at sea coming home into all this.”