For her public was dear to her, and she would not have it disappointed, and there she was before them in her trim driving suit, still breathless from the wild ride.
Then she told them--Merton especially--how her directors had again and again besought her not to persist in risking her life in her dangerous exploits, but to allow a double to take her place at the more critical moments.

But she had never been able to bring herself to this deception, for deception, in a way, it would be.

The directors had entreated in vain.

She would keep faith with her public, though full well she knew that at any time one of her dare-devil acts might prove fatal.
Her public was very dear to her.

She was delighted to meet it here, face to face, heart to heart.