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he pulled himself together. In the lanes he breathed freer, and a less
formal conversation presently began.
"
You've ridden out of Chichester in a great hurry," said Jessie.
"Well, the fact of it is, I'm worried, just a little bit. About this
machine."
"Of course," she said. "I had forgotten that. But where are we going?"
"Jest a turning or two more, if you don't mind," said Hoopdriver.
"Jest a mile or so. I have to think of you, you know. I should feel more
easy. If we was locked up, you know--Not that I should mind on my own
account--"
They rode with a streaky, grey sea coming and going on their left hand.
Every mile they put between themselves and Chichester Mr. Hoopdriver
felt a little less conscience-stricken, and a little more of the gallant
desperado. Here he was riding on a splendid machine with a Slap-up girl
beside him. What would they think of it in the Emporium if any of them
were to see him? He imagined in detail the astonishment of Miss Isaacs
and of Miss Howe. "Why! It's Mr. Hoopdriver," Miss Isaacs would say.
"Never!" emphatically from Miss Howe. Then he played with Briggs, and
then tried the 'G.V.' in a shay. "Fancy introducing 'em to her--My
sister pro tem." He was her brother Chris--Chris what?--Confound it!
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