It was not until the car was out of the ditch, and Clayton had driven off in Graham's car toward the club that Delight remembered her father's voice the day he had told her Graham would teach her to drive. She stiffened and he was quick to see the change in her manner. The total damage was one flat tire, and while the engine was inflating it, he looked at her. She had grown to be quite pretty. His eyes approved her.
“Better let me come round and give you a few lessons, Delight.”
“I'd rather learn by myself, if you don't mind.”
“You'll have a real smash unless you learn properly.”
But she remained rather obstinately silent.
“What's the matter with me, Delight? You're not exactly crazy about me, are you?”
“That's silly. I don't know anything about you any more.”
“That's your fault. You know I've been away for four years, and since I came back I haven't seen much of you. But, if you'll let me come round—”
“You can come if you like. You'll be bored, probably.”
“You're being awfully nasty, you know. Here I come to pull you out of a ditch and generally rescue you, and—Come, now, Delight, what is it? There's something. We used to be pals.”