"Well, Joan," said the benevolent mechanic, after he had looked at her steadfastly for a few moments, "what say you?—silence gives consent, eh?" Mrs. She barely heard a word that Martin or Brown said, until Martin’s voice chimed. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. She whispered, “Another car is coming,” as lights approached their car. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. . He reached the top floor and ran down the corridor to the little dressing room at the end where he had lost her before. Sheppard snatched back her hand from his grasp, and exerted all her force to repel his advances.
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