is!"

Bleak handed in the basket. "Quimbleton--" he began.

"I know," she said. "I'm taking you to him. Poor fellow, he is in
great peril. Get in, please."

By the time Bleak was in the seat beside her, the car was already
in motion.

"You have your passport?" she said, steering through the tangled
traffic.

"Yes," he said. He could not help stealing a sidelong glance at
this bewitching creature. Her dainty and vivacious face, just now
a trifle sunburnt, was fixed resolutely upon the vehicles ahead.
On the rim of the big steering wheel her small gloved hands gave
an impression of great capability. Bleak thought that her profile
seemed oddly familiar.

"Haven't I seen you before?" he said.

"Very possibly. Your newspaper printed my picture the other day,
with some rather uncomplimentary remarks."

Bleak was nonplussed.

"Very stupid of me," he said, "but I don't seem to recall--"

"I am Miss Chuff," she said calmly.