about to
cry, and entitled "A Gambler's Wife." Mrs. Pethel was not like that.
Of her there were no engravings for undergraduate hearts to melt at.
But there was one man, certainly, whose compassion was very much at her
service. How was he going to help her?

I know not how many hair's-breadth escapes we may have had while these
thoughts passed through my brain. I had closed my eyes. So
preoccupied was I that but for the constant rush of air against my face
I might, for aught I knew, have been sitting ensconced in an armchair
at home. After a while I was aware that this rush had abated; I opened
my eyes to the old familiar streets of Rouen. We were to have tea at
the Hotel d'Angleterre. What was to be my line of action? Should I
take Pethel aside and say: "Swear to me, on your word of honor as a
gentleman, that you will never again touch the driving-gear, or
whatever you call it, of a motor-car. Otherwise, I shall expose you to
the world. Meanwhile, we shall return to Dieppe by train"? He might
flush (for I knew him capable of flushing) as he asked me to explain.
And after? He would laugh in my face. He would advise me not to go
motoring any more. He might even warn me not to go back to Dieppe in
one of those dangerous railway-trains. He might even urge me to wait
until a nice Bath chair had been sent out for me from England.

I heard a voice (mine, alas!) saying brightly, "Well, here we are!" I
helped the ladies to descend. Tea was ordered. Pethel refused that
stimulant and had a glass of water. I had a liqueur brandy. It was
evident to me that tea meant much to Mrs. Pethel. She looked stronger
after her second cup, and younger after her third. Still, it was my
duty to help her if I could. While I talked and laughed, I did not
forget that. But what on earth was I to do? I am no hero. I hate to
be ridiculous. I am inveterately averse to any sort of fuss. Besides,
how was I to be sure that my own personal dread of the return journey
hadn't something to do with my intention of tackling Pethel? I rather
thought it had. What this woman would dare daily because she was a
mother could not I dare once? I reminded myself of this man's
reputation for invariable luck. I reminded myself that he was an
extraordinarily skilful driver. To that skill and luck I would pin my
faith.

What I seem to myself, do you ask of me?

But I answered your question a few lines back. Enough that my faith
was re