"I see," he replied composedly. "Then you think I ought to have
been overwhelmed with delight that your car cannoned into my
bus--incidentally I barked my shins badly in the general mix-up--and
that I had to haul you out and bring you round from a faint and so on?"

The question--without trimmings--was unanswerable. But to Magda,
London's spoiled child, conscious that there were men who would have
given half their fortune for the chance to render a like service, and
then counted themselves amply rewarded by the subsequent hour or two
alone with her, the question was merely provocative.

"Some men would have been," she returned calmly.

"Ah! Just because you are the Wielitzska, I suppose?"

She stared at him in blank astonishment.

"You knew--you knew who I was all the time?" she gasped.

"Certainly I knew."

"Then--then----"

"Then why wasn't I suitably impressed?" he suggested drily.

She sprang to her feet.

"Oh! you are intolerable!" she exclaimed hotly. "You know I didn't mean
that!"