In extenuation for these violent emotions please remember that Flora, in company with Jane, had been instrumental in saving Anthony Barraclough's life when they found him lying on the roadside bleeding like a stuck pig during the great retreat of 1918. After all, a girl is justified in feeling strongly about a man's choice of a wife when he owes his life to her. She is more or less responsible.
Isabel said nothing for perhaps a quarter of a mile, then suddenly exclaimed:
"I say, this is beastly slow."
She could not have made a happier remark. Flora relaxed instantly.
"Isn't it chronic," she returned, "but the old lady was firm about it.
If I'd had the car we'd have whooped it up a bit."
"Wish we had. Can't stick this jogging—want to get out and run."
"Fond of speed?" said Flora.
"Um, rather. That beastly old train—then this. I'd half a notion to fly down only I didn't know any landings round here."
"You've flown then?"
"Yes, lots."