"I am enchanted," he declared. "But why not come with me in the car? If
you take the one from here, you will only have to bring it back, for you
can't house it at Weir."

"But I should have to come back in any case to fetch my bicycle," Olga
pointed out.

"No, you needn't! Mitchel can ride that home, and you can drive the
motor. You can drive, I'm told?"

"Of course, I can. I often drive Dad." Olga spoke with pride.

"Do you really? Why did you never tell me that before? Afraid I should
want you instead of Mitchel?" He looked at her quizzically.

"It wouldn't make much difference if you did," said Olga. It was really
quite useless to attempt to be polite to him if he would come so
persistently within snubbing distance. Besides, she really did not owe
him any courtesy, after the way he had dared to treat her.

But he only laughed at her, and turned to the door. "I shouldn't be so
cocksure of that if I were you," he said, opening it with a flourish. "I
have a wonderful knack of getting what I want."

She flung him the gauntlet of her contemptuous defiance as she passed
him. "Really?" she said.

He took it up instantly, with disconcerting assurance. "Yes, really," he
said.