"Can't. The orders are, all chauffeurs to stand by the cars."

... His eyebrows knotted and twitched in sudden anxiety.

"You know, Sharlie, you'll be fired on."

"I know. I don't mind, John, I don't really. I shall be all right."

"Yes. You'll be all right." But by the way he kept on glancing up and
down the road she could see he was uneasy. "If you could have stood in
front of those cars. _You're_ in the most dangerous place here."

"Somebody's got to be in it."

He looked at her and smiled. "Jeanne," he said, "in her armour."

"Rot."

And they were silent.

"I say, John--my car _does_ cover Gwinnie's a bit, doesn't it?"

"Yes," he said abruptly.

"_That's_ all right. You must go now. They're coming for the stretchers."

His face quivered. He thrust out his hand quickly, and as she took it she
thought: He thinks he isn't coming back. She was aware of Mrs. Rankin and
two of the McClane men with stretchers, passing; she could see Mrs.