"I see."
Bull's eyes twinkled.
"Yes," he went on, "when I make this old city it's with the purpose of driving twenty-four hours work into twelve. An automobile helps that way."
"And you're wasting all this time driving me up to my apartments?" Nancy smiled. "I'm more indebted than I guessed."
The man's denial was instant.
"No," he said. "Your apartments are about two blocks from the Château. But tell me, when'll you be through making your report to Peterman?"
Nancy's depression passed. She was caught again in the interest of everything.
"Why, to-day—surely," she said. "You see, I want to get word to you right away."
Bull nodded.
"That's fine," he said. "It's not my way leaving things lying around either. I'll be on the jump to get through before sailing time to that little old country across the water. But tell me. That report. After it's in you'll have made all the good you reckon to? And then you, personally, cut right out of this thing?"