misguided herself into the emporium. She did not care to be addressed in
her own tongue; she even objected to the instant discovery of her
nationality, of which at the moment she was ashamed. And so it was with
frigidity that she inquired whether cars were to be hired.

The shopman hesitated. Audrey knew that she had committed an indiscretion.
It was impossible that cars should be handed out thus unceremoniously to
anybody who had the fancy to enter the shop! Cars were naturally the
subject of negotiations and references.... And then the shopman, espying
the gold bag, and being by it and by the English frigidity humbled to his
proper station, fawned and replied that he had cars for hire, and the best
cars. Did the lady want a large car or a small car? She wanted a large car.
Did she want a town or a touring car? She wanted a town car, and by the
week. When did she want it? She wanted it at once--in half an hour.

"I can hire you a car in half an hour, with liveried chauffeur," said the
shopman, after telephoning. "But he cannot speak English."

"_Ça m'est égal_," answered Audrey with grim satisfaction. "What kind of a
car will it be?"

"Mercédès, Madame."

The price was eight hundred francs a week, inclusive. As Audrey was paying
for the first week the man murmured:

"What address, Madame?"

"Hôtel du Danube," she answered like lightning--indeed far quicker than
thought. "But I shall call here for the car. It must be waiting outside."