The girl turned from the scene that so entertained her.
“Was he?” She shook her head. “He’s got a head as long as—as the body of that girl dancing with Burt down there,” she said with a laugh. “He’s not going to give himself away. I’d say he’s a great bluff when he feels like it. You know I’ll have to quit the Speedway or——”
“Or what?”
McLagan’s eyes were no longer smiling.
“Or marry him.”
The girl’s smile had passed. Her eyes were no less serious than his.
“You mean that?”
McLagan was leaning across the table with his hands supporting his plain face. He waited while Claire sipped her coffee and nodded over her cup. Then he went on deliberately and almost harshly.
“You can’t! You mustn’t! You shan’t!”