She yielded herself completely to the delicious
sense of his protection. The extraordinary care he was
giving the machine was a plain avowal of his deep
regard for her comfort and happiness. She had been in
one or two moderately moving cars driven by careful
chauffeurs through Central Park. She had always felt
on those trips with Jane Anderson like a poor relation
from the country imposing on a rich friend.

This trip was all her own. The car and its master
were there solely for her happiness. Her slightest
whim was law for both. It was sweet, this sense of
power. She began to lift her body with a touch of
pride.

She laughed now at fears. What nonsense! No
Knight of the Age of Chivalry could treat her with more
deference. He had tried already to get her to stop for
a bite of lunch.

"Don't you want a thing to eat?" he persisted.

"Not a thing. I've just had my breakfast. It's
only nine o'clock----"

"I know, but we've come thirty miles and the air
makes you hungry. We ought to eat about six good meals
a day."