She had provoked and interested him before that--but rather as a raw self-willed child--a "flapper" whose extraordinary beauty gave her a distinction she had done nothing to earn.

But every moment in that Dansworth day was clear in memory:--the grave young face behind the steering-wheel, the perfect lips compressed, the eyes intent upon their task, the girl's courage and self-command.

Still more the patient Helena who waited for him at the farm--the grateful exultant look when he said "Come"-- and every detail of the scene in Dansworth:--Helena with her most professional air, driving through soldiers and police, Helena helping to carry and place the two wounded men, and that smiling "good-bye" she had thrown him as she drove away with Buntingford beside her.
The young man moved restlessly; and the light boat was set rocking.

It was curious how he too, like Lucy Friend, only from another point of view, was beginning to reflect on the new intimacy that seemed to be developing between Buntingford and his ward.

Philip of course was an awfully good fellow, and Helena was just finding it out; what else was there in it?
But the jealous pang roused by the thought of Buntingford, once felt, persisted.