THE MOTOR MAID
329
Bertie had come out into the woods with a neat little stick, which during part of our conversation he had tucked jauntily under his arm. It now lay on the ground.
I saw Jack glance at it.
"Ah!"—I faltered. "Do—do you think you'd better?"
"I know I had. Go, child."
I went.
I had great faith in Jack, faith that he knew what was best for everyone.
