"Stop here a moment, will you please."
They were at the bottom of a hollow with no sign of habitation about, save the roof of a villa which perched upon a rocky eminence, half a mile to one side.
"Will you get out and lift the radiator cover and pretend to be fixing something, McCall? I want to talk to you."
Without a word, Jack left his seat, went to the tool box and was soon viewing the internal economy of the car, simulating search for an electrical hiatus with some fair degree of accuracy.
The girl bent forward, her cheek suffused but a humorous smile playing about her face.
"McCall," she said, "I feel I should assure you at the outset that I am quite aware of certain things."
Armitage glanced at her and then quickly lowered his eyes. She gazed admiringly at his strong, clean face and the figure sharply defined by the close-fitting livery.
"Your name is not McCall and I have not the slightest idea that you are by profession a physical instructor, or a driver either."
Armitage unscrewed a wrench and then screwed the jaws back into their place.
"We are what conditions make us, Miss Wellington," he said.