"The trolley?" repeated Vanderlyn, mechanically.
"The motor—the motor, man! But it never occurred to me to do it till it was too late."
"Would you like me to go out to-morrow morning and fetch her back?" asked Vanderlyn slowly.
"I wish you would!" cried the other eagerly, "then I should be sure of her coming back in time for us to start by the twelve-twenty train. When shall I send the trolley for you?"
"I'll go by train," said Vanderlyn shortly. "Madame de Léra's villa is at Marly-le-Roi, isn't it?"
"Yes, haven't you ever been there?"
Vanderlyn looked at Pargeter. "No," he said very deliberately, "I scarcely know Madame de Léra."
"How odd," said Pargeter indifferently. "Peggy's always with her, and you and Peggy are such pals."
"One doesn't always care for one's friends' friends," said Vanderlyn dryly. He longed to shake the other off, but Pargeter clung closely to his side. Each put on the hat and light coat handed to him; and, when once out on the boulevard, Pargeter slipped his hand confidingly through the other's arm.
His touch burnt Vanderlyn.