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THE MOTOR MAID

"Why don't you thank me?" he inquired. "I was doing it for you. I knew you hated to miss all this, and I saw she meant to go on, so I intervened, in the only way I could think of, to touch her."

"If you 're always as clever as that, I don't see why this should n't be our trip," I said. "That will be a consolation."

"I 'm afraid you 'll often need more consolation than that," he answered." Lady Turnour is—as the Americans say—a pretty 'stiff proposition.' "

"Still, if you can hypnotize her into going to all the places, and stopping to look at all the nicest things, this will at least be a cheap automobile tour for us both."

I laughed, but he did n't; and I was sorry, for I thought I deserved a smile. And he has a nice one, with even white teeth in it, and a wistful sort of look in his eyes at the same time: a really interesting smile.

I wondered what he was thinking about that made him look so grave; but I conceitedly felt that it was something concerning me—or the situation of us both.