Now and again I saw Edith, but I kept away from the house. She was herself a very good driver and duly certificated in Paris. Then one day John told me that Miss Dalghren was anxious to learn to drive, and asked me to give her a few early-morning lessons in a little voiturette which we had taken in trade and used for knocking about on our business. So I took the girl out in the Bois before business hours in the morning, and twice we met Léontine riding with Kharkoff. The face of the Polish girl was not as amiable as I would have liked to see it, and knowing something of the wild nature of women of her sort, I told Miss Dalghren that, if she didn't mind, we would continue our lessons late in the afternoon, as I had missed one or two early clients, and later in the day I could get John to relieve me at the office while I was gone. She agreed, and the very next day we ran into Léontine and Kharkoff again at about six in the evening.
We were rounding the corner of a narrow little route and we couldn't have been in a worse position, for I was leaning over with my face so close to hers that a few tendrils of her yellow hair were against my cheek, the car being old and a noisy little beast. Miss Dalghren turned to me with a smile, just as Léontine and Kharkoff, walking their horses, came upon us. As I looked up I caught a glimpse of Léontine's face. It had gone as black as a thunder-cloud. She raised her crop and brought it down with a vicious cut on the ribs of her hunter, which sprang ahead, almost striking the car.
