hers. No other pneumatic had been along the road that morning. It
was just possible, of course, that he might see her once more--
coming back. Should he try and say something smart? He speculated
what manner of girl she might be. Probably she was one of these
here New Women. He had a persuasion the cult had been maligned.
Anyhow she was a Lady. And rich people, too! Her machine couldn't
have cost much under twenty pounds. His mind came round and dwelt
some time on her visible self. Rational dress didn't look a bit
unwomanly. However, he disdained to be one of your
fortunehunters. Then his thoughts drove off at a tangent. He
would certainly have to get something to eat at the next public
house.


ON THE ROAD TO RIPLEY

VI

In the fulness of time, Mr. Hoopdriver drew near the Marquis of
Granby at Esher, and as he came under the railway arch and saw
the inn in front of him, he mounted his machine again and rode
bravely up to the doorway. Burton and biscuit and cheese he had,
which, indeed, is Burton in its proper company; and as he was
eating there came a middleaged man in a drab cycling suit, very
red and moist and angry in the face, and asked bitterly for a
lemon squash. And he sat down upon the seat in the bar and mopped
his face. But scarcely had he sat down before he got up again and
stared out of the doorway.

"Damn!" said he. Then, "Damned Fool!"