Armitage frowned.
"Look here, Sara, you're on the wrong tack."
"Oh, is it possible! All right, you need n't confide in me if you don't wish to. All I ask is permission to view events—and you can't withhold that, you know. But seriously, Jack, can I be of any assistance? I approve, don't you know, awfully. And—she's worth every bit of it. But how are you going to win her in the guise of a chauffeur? I always knew you possessed a large amount of self-confidence, but allow me to inform you, sir, there are some things your natural qualifications can't overshadow. Come, Jack, do strip off your motley and court her as a naval officer—you see I, at least, have kept track of you—and a gentleman should; I don't like this way."
"I tell you, you are wrong. I can't say anything now. But wait—then you 'll know. And, Sara, please; not a word as to whom I am; promise me you 'll keep still until I give you the word."
She smiled enigmatically.
"Don't you admire Anne Wellington?"
"Come, Sara, promise; this is a serious matter with me."
"Don't you?" she persisted.
"Of course I do," he snapped. "She's a corker. Now promise."
"I promise nothing. I shall act as I think best for you."