THE WHEELS OF CHANCE
"You are very good to me."
His expression was eloquent.
"Very well, then, and thank you. It's wonderful—it's more than I deserve that you—" She dropped the theme abruptly. "What was our bill at Chichester?"
"Eigh?" said Mr. Hoopdriver, feigning a certain stupidity. There was a brief discussion. Secretly he was delighted at her insistence on paying. She carried her point. Their talk came round to their immediate plans for the day. They decided to ride easily through Havant, and stop perhaps at Fareham or Southampton. For the previous day had tried them both. Holding the map extended on his knee, Mr. Hoopdriver's eye fell by chance on the bicycle at his feet. "That bicycle," he remarked, quite irrelevantly, "wouldn't look the same machine if I got a big double Elarum instead of that little bell."
"Why?"
"Jest a thought." A pause.
"Very well then,—Havant and lunch," said Jessie, rising.
"I wish, somehow, we could have managed it without stealing that machine," said Hoopdriver. "Because it is stealing it, you know, come to think of it."
"Nonsense. If Mr. Bechamel troubles you—I will tell the whole world—if need be."
"I believe you would," said Mr. Hoopdriver, admiring her. "You're plucky enough—goodness knows."
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