drive wound away to the house, invisible in the waning light,
situate in the shelter of the grove of trees that studded the
lawn.

"Gasoline! Brrr!" said Maitland, shuddering and shivering with the
combination of a nauseous odor and the night's coolness--the
latter by now making itself as unpleasantly prominent as the
former.

Though he hated the smell with all his heart, manfully
inconsistent he raised his head, sniffing the air for further
evidence; and got his reward in a sickening gust.

"Tank leaked," he commented with brevity. "Quart of the stuff must
have trickled out right here. Ugh! If it goes on at this rate,
there'll be another breakdown before she gets home." And, "Serve
her right, too!" he growled, vindictive.

But for all his indignation he acknowledged a sneaking wish that
he might be at hand again, in such event, a second time to give
gratuitous service to his grey lady.

Analyzing this frame of mind (not without surprise and some
disdain of him who weakly entertained it) he crossed the drive and
struck in over the lawn, shaping his course direct for the front
entrance of the house.

By dead reckoning the hour was two, or something later; and a
chill was stealing in upon the land, wafted gently southward from
Long Island Sound. All the world beside himself seemed to slumber,