"Is that the right time?" she demanded incredulously.
He said, so low she could scarcely hear him: "Yes, Stray Lock. Must I close the story book and lay it away until another day?"
She rose, brushing the bright strand from her cheek; he stood up, pulled the tassel of an old-time bell rope, and, when the butler came, ordered the car.
She went away to her room, where Mrs. Quant swathed her in rain garments and veils, and secretly pressed into her hand a bottle containing "a suffusion" warranted to discourage any insidious advances of typod.
"A spoonful before meals, dearie," she whispered hoarsely; "and don't tell Mr. James—he'd be that disgusted with me for doin' of a Christian duty. I'll have some of my magic drops ready when you come to-morrow, and you can just lock the door and set and rock and enj'y them onto a lump of sugar."
A little dismayed, but contriving to look serious, Jacqueline thanked her and fled. Desboro put her into the car and climbed in beside her.
"You needn't, you know," she protested. "There are no highwaymen, are there?"
"None more to be dreaded than myself."
"Then why do you go to the station with me?"