CHAPTER XVI
FOR some time we did not speak, but my thoughts moved more quickly than the beating of the engine. At last I said meekly, "Of course, I may as well consider myself discharged, too. And even if I were n't, I should go."
"I 've been thinking about that," Mr. Dane answered. "It was the first thought that came into my head when the row began. It is n't likely she 'll want you to leave, because she won't like getting on without a maid. I think, in the circumstances, unless she is brutal, you 'd better stay with her till your friends can receive you. Someone must come forward and help you now."
"I wouldn't ask anyone but Pamela, who's gone to America," I protested. "Besides, I can't stand Lady Turnour after what 's happened—with you gone."
(As I said this, I remembered again how I had dreaded to associate with the chauffeur, and planned to avoid him. It was rather funny, as it had turned out; but somehow I did n't feel like laughing.)
"Of course you won't mind," I went on. "It's different for a man. If you were left and I going, it would n't matter, because you 'd have the car. But I 've nothing—except Lady Turnour's 'transformation.' Luckily, she won't want me to stop."
"I think she will," he said, "because your only fault
