Now do let me give you a lift."
"Mr. Hilliard!" cried Angela, taken completely by surprise, as she looked
up from under her sunshade. "Where are you going?"
"I've no particular choice," said Nick. "I'm only in this part of the
country because this part of the country happens to be here. I'd be just
as pleased if 'twas anywhere else. Where are _you_ going?"
Angela began to laugh, and could not stop laughing. Nick, seeing this, and
seeing that she looked a schoolgirl of sixteen in her little motor-bonnet,
ventured to laugh too.
"I was taking to the desert," she said. "But I _wanted_ to go to
Riverside. Is--is this the same old story?"
She could not put her meaning more plainly, because of Mr. Hilliard's
chauffeur; but Nick understood. "I've been learnin' to drive, the last
few days," he said. "And I've seen you, now and then, runnin' about in
that little car. It's an old acquaintance of mine. Sealman tried to sell
it to me last winter. I was sort of sorry to see he'd got hold of you."
Nick was out in the road now, standing beside her, and the big yellow car
was purring an invitation.
"I was sorry for _him_," said Angela. "But I'm not now. He's a cheat. He
pretends I've engaged the car for a fortnight."
"I guess he won't go on along that line now he's seen who I am," remarked
Nick, "because if he does, I'll make his Model an orphan.
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