Akers leaped
out.
"No need to worry about our young friend," he said cheerfully. "He
is alternately being very sick at his stomach and cursing the poor
working man. But I think I'd better drive you back. He'll be poor
company, I'll say that."
He looked at her, his bold eyes challenging, belying the amiable
gentleness of his smile.
"I'd better let him know."
"I told him. He isn't strong for me. Always hate the fellow who
saves you, you know. But he didn't object."
Lily moved into his car obediently. She felt a strange inclination
to do what this man wanted. Rather, it was an inability to oppose
him. He went on, big, strong, and imperious. And he carried one
along. It was easy and queer. But she did, unconsciously, what
she had never done with Pink or any other man; she sat as far away
from him on the wide seat as she could.
He noticed that, and smiled ahead, over the wheel. He had been
infuriated over her avoidance of him, but if she was afraid of him--
"Bully engine in this car. Never have to change a gear."
"You certainly made a road through the field."
"They'll fix that, all right. Are you warm enough?"
"Yes, thank you.
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