ding a
considerable time in secluded inaction, it did not start readily. At
each application of Billie's foot on the self-starter, it emitted a
tinny and reproachful sound and then seemed to go to sleep again.
Eventually, however, the engines began to revolve and the machine moved
reluctantly out into the drive.

"The battery must be run down," said Billie.

"All right," said Bream.

Billie cast a glance of contempt at him out of the corner of her eyes.
She hardly knew why she had spoken to him except that, as all motorists
are aware, the impulse to say rude things about their battery is almost
irresistible. To a motorist the art of conversation consists in rapping
out scathing remarks either about the battery or the oiling-system.

Billie switched on the head-lights and turned the car down the dark
drive. She was feeling thoroughly upset. Her idealistic nature had
received a painful shock on the discovery of the yellow streak in Bream.
To call it a yellow streak was to understate the facts. It was a great
belt of saffron encircling his whole soul. That she, Wilhelmina
Bennett, who had gone through the world seeking a Galahad, should finish
her career as the wife of a man who hid under beds simply because people
shot at him with elephant guns was abhorrent to her. Why, Samuel Marlowe
would have perished rather than do such a thing. You might say what you
liked about Samuel Marlowe--and, of course, his habit of playing
practical jokes put him beyond the pale--but nobody could question his
courage. Look at the way he had dived overboard that time in the harbour
at New York! Billie found herself thinking wistfully about Samuel
Marlowe.

There are only a few makes of car in which you can think about anything
except the actual driving without stalling the engines, and Mr.
Bennett's Twin-Six Complex was not one of them. It stopped as if it had
been waiting for the signal.... The noise of the engine died away. The
wheels ceased to revolve. The car did everything except lie down. It was
a particularly pig-headed car and right from the start it had been
unable to see the sense in this midnight expedition. It seemed now to
have the idea that if it just lay low and did nothing, presently it
would be taken back to its cosy garage.

Billie trod on the self-starter. Nothing happened.

"You'll have to get down and crank her," she said curtly.

"All right," said Bream.

"Well, go on," said Billie impatiently.

"Eh?"

"Ge