But again Lillian smiled--this time to herself. If she
understood anything on earth it was Chilcote and his moods.
"If one may be careless of anything, Jack," she said, lightly,
"surely it's of time. I can imagine being pressed for
anything else in the world. If it's an appointment you're
worrying about, a motor goes ever so much faster than a cab--"
She looked at him tentatively, her head slightly on one side,
her muff raised till the roses and some of the soft fur
touched her cheek.
She looked very charming and very persuasive as Chilcote
glanced back. Again she seemed to represent a respite
--something graceful and subtle in a world of oppressive
obligations. His eyes strayed from her figure to the smart
motor-car drawn up beside the curb.
She saw the glance. "Ever so much quicker," she insinuated;
and, smiling again, she stepped forward from the door of the
shop. After a second's indecision Chilcote followed her.
The waiting car had three seats--one in front for the
chauffeur, two vis-a-vis at the back, offering pleasant
possibilities of a tete-a-tete.
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