“Now then, there are your tanks,” she said. “As for wood, I don't know what you will do, but there is a garden paling a little further on, and, of course—”
“Don't worry about that,” said Barry.
“I won't,” with a gay laugh; “I know you Canadians, you see.”
Together they returned to the car.
Before she mounted to her seat she turned to Barry, and offered him her hand and said: “I think it is perfectly ripping that we were introduced in this way. Though I don't know your name yet,” she added shyly.
“Awfully stupid of me,” said Barry, and he gave her his name, adding that of the regiment, and his rank.
“Good-bye, then,” she said, climbing into her car, and starting her engine.
“But,” said Barry, “I must see you safely back.”
She laughed a scornful but, as Barry thought, a most delicious little laugh.
“Nonsense! We don't do that sort of thing here, you know. We're on our own.”