Other vehicles were now being produced by a firm who had bought
his patent, said he, but at present his own; appropriately named the
"Model," was the "only one running." He lifted the brilliant bonnet, and
revealed intricate things, all new and silvery and glistening like
crystallized sugar. Angela fell an easy victim. She knew nothing about the
mechanical virtues and vices of cars, though she had two at home for her
own use, and the Prince a dozen, valued only less than his aeroplanes.
Hers had been gray and dark green. She had always wanted a blue car, and
this was a lovely colour. Though she was no more vain than a pretty young
woman ought to be, she consented to an experimental run, with an undertone
of conviction that the car would become her as a background.
As she made her decision, Kate arrived, breathless with the excitement of
bargaining, to find her mistress on the curbstone.
"Oh, ma'am!" she panted. "I've _done_ it! I've got five hundred dollars in
me pocket!"
"And they've got the bag," Angela regretfully murmured.
"Yes, ma'am, they have. Unless they've sold it since. Such a fine
jewellery shop. The name an Oirish one, and I went there first, for luck.
Then I tried another place, but they offered less, and I ran back to
Barrymore's.
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