"I'll do what you ask me, to-morrow! I will do what you ask, if you'll go now!" "You come--do you hear!" snarled Mortimer, turning on his wife, who had already risen.

"If you don't I'll make a row here that you'll never hear the end of as long as you live! And there'll be nothing to talk over in Quarrier's office, if I do." Leila looked at Plank, rose, and moved swiftly toward the veranda steps, her head resolutely lowered, the burning shame flaming in her face.
Mortimer cast one triumphant glance at Plank, then waddled unsteadily after his wife.
"Hold on," he growled; "I've a Mercedes here! I'll drive you back--wait! Here it is! Here we are!" And to Quarrier's machinist he said: "You get into the tonneau.

I want to show Mrs.Mortimer what night-driving is.

Do you hear?
I tell you I'm going to drive this machine and show you how!" Leila scarcely heard him.

She obeyed the impulse of his hand on her arm, and mounted to the seat, staring straight ahead of her with dazed and straining eyes that saw nothing.
Then Mortimer clambered to his seat, and, without an instant's warning, opened up and seized the wheel.
Unprepared, the machinist attempted to swing aboard, missed his footing in the uncertain light, and fell sprawling on the gravel.