ribbon whirling upon spools. Merkle lay back inertly, lolling and
swaying to the side-thrust of the cushions; but Lorelei found her
fists clenched and her muscles hard with the nervous strain.
Finally she pushed the shield forward, and, leaning over the front
seat, stared at the tiny dash-light. The finger of the speedometer
oscillated gently over the figure sixty, and she dropped back with
a gasp. They had been running thus for a long time.

Merkle roused to say, "Is this too fast for you, Miss Knight?"

She laughed nervously. "N-no. I'm sorry I woke you."

After a moment he startled her by inquiring, "Why don't you marry
Bob Wharton?"

She tore her eyes from the reeling shadows in front and peered at
him.

"What makes you think I like him well enough?"

"I don't. But he's the sort you're looking for, isn't he?"

She nodded. "I can't expect to--marry a decent man. I've learned
that much."

There was a pause, and then, "It would be a great pity," he said.

"You're not complimentary. Perhaps I'm not so bad as I appear."

"I didn't mean that. It would be too bad, on your account. I--like