"There is something wrong, monsieur?"
The man Leon was at his elbow. Lanyard replied with the curt nod of a disgruntled motorist.
"Something--Jules can tell you," he said shortly.
"Meanwhile, Mademoiselle Delorme and I have decided not to wait. We've got no time to spare. We will take your car and go on."
"But, monsieur, I--" Leon began to expostulate.
The icy accents of Liane Delorme cut it: "Well, Leon: what is your objection?"
"Objection, madame?" the fellow faltered. "Pardon--but it is not for me to object. I--I was merely startled."
"Then get over that at once," he was advised; "and bring my jewelcase--Marthe will point it out to you--to the touring-car."
"Yes, madame, immediately."
"Also the lunch-hamper, if you please."