quite as important as the chauffeur."

"More so, surely?"--with polite irony. "The car, I am sorry to say, will
take a good deal of repairing. At present it's still in the middle of
the street with red lights fore and aft. It can't be moved till the fog
lifts."

"What a nuisance! How on earth am I to get home?"

"There are such things as taxis"--suggestively. "Later, when it clears a
bit, I'll send out for one."

"Thanks. I'm afraid I'm giving you a lot of trouble."

He did not hastily disclaim the idea as most men would have done.

"That can't be helped," he returned bluntly.

Magda felt herself colouring again. This man was insufferable!

"Evidently the role of knight-errant is new to you," she observed.

"Quite true. I'm not in the habit of rescuing damsels in distress. But
how did you guess?"--with interest.

"Because you do it with such a very bad grace," she flashed at him.

He smiled--and once more Magda was aware of the sense of familiarity
even with that whimsical, crooked smile.