“But she’s over head and ears in love with you,” I observed.
“Love be hanged!” he laughed carelessly. “We’re out for money, my dear Ewart—and we’ll have a lot of it out of this, never fear!”
A moment later I swung into the great garage, where hundreds of cars were standing—that garage with the female directress which every motorist knows so well.
And I stopped the engines, and literally fell out, utterly done up and exhausted after that mad drive from the Thames to the Mediterranean.
The circumstances seemed even more complicated and mysterious than I had imagined them to be.
But the main question was whether the dainty little Pierrette had told me the truth.
IV
IS STILL MORE MYSTERIOUS
At ten o’clock that same morning I saw Bindo off by the Paris rapide.