said Valancy. “I’m afraid I’m hopelessly proper. I’ve been sitting here for three hours with Barney Snaith and he hasn’t even tried to kiss me. I wouldn’t have minded if he had, Olive.”

Valancy was still leaning forward. Her little hat with its crimson rose was tilted down over one eyes — Valancy’s smile — what had happened to Valancy! She looked — not pretty — Doss couldn’t be pretty — but provocative, fascinating — yes, abominably so. Olive drew back. It was beneath her dignity to say more. After all, Valancy must be both mad and bad.

“Thanks — that’s enough,” said Barney behind the car. “Much obliged, Mr. Stirling. Two gallons — seventy cents. Thank you.”