“It is here on the seat.”
“Just two o’clock. I shall tell my man I’m off in chase of a party who made off in a car. I shall bring you one of my greatcoats and pick you up at the cross-roads. We shall be in London by five. We will get some breakfast somehow, and then knock up the warehouse people and pile your luggage into the back. I shall drive you to a quiet hotel I know, and I shall leave you there. What could be simpler? An independent young woman staying at a quiet hotel, rather bored with London and inclined to resume a discarded career.”
She laughed softly—happily.
“It is simple! Then I shall have to write you a formal letter.”
“Just that.”
CHAPTER XLIV
THE NIGHT DRIVE
Eve, waiting at the Camber cross-roads under the shadow of a yew that grew in the hedgerow, saw an arm of light sweep slowly down the open road before her, the glare of Canterton’s headlights as his car rounded the wooded corner about a quarter of a mile from the Fernhill gates.
She remained in the shadow till she was sure that it was Canterton, and that he was alone.