If Patrine did not look at von Herrnung, his eyes were less abstemious with regard to her. Under cover of their short red eyelashes, they scrutinised her from time to time. There was unbridled curiosity in their regard, and also a retrospective vanity, admiration, and resentment as well. She rode the high horse. She was hellishly sure of herself. Sure of von Herrnung, it might be. This passed in his mind as he said to her: "Do you know that this car has had the honour to carry the Emperor of Germany? When _Seine Majestät_ paid a visit to England in the year 1907, he used it every day." Patrine returned indifferently: "It seems to go smoothly." Von Herrnung said, as the car obeyed every motion of his practised hands upon the steering-wheel: "It is a wonderful traveller. It has been fitted with a Heinz motor, three times more powerful to its weight than any other known petrol-engine. Some journeys, I can tell you, it has had with the All Highest. Travelling incognito, driven always by a—certain young Prussian officer; then of Engineers—attached to the Personal Staff specially for this work." "I daresay you mean yourself?" "That is a clever piece of guessing; I congratulate you, _gnädiges Fräulein_. Well, it is now no secret. I do not object to admit having been the young _Leutnant_ in the case. So now you know how I gained my _flair_ for English scenery and my violent penchant for English beauty. A weakness of which I am rather proud, since it is one the Emperor shares." The final sentence might have conveyed a jeer. But Patrine was not listening. She called to her companion: "You are driving in the wrong direction for Berkeley Square, but it does not matter. Please put me down just here at the corner of Harley Street. I can leave this letter at a house there instead of putting it in the pillar-post." "You are not getting out, _gnädiges Fräulein_. You are coming with me to Hendon. I have there a little business which will occupy an hour." He added with a familiarity that stung, looking at the tense white profile and the black brows knitted in anger: "You are yourself to blame that I cannot part with you. You are really as magnificent by day as by evening—with your so-gloriously-coloured hair. May I also congratulate you on the effective costume? Black and white are our Prussian colours. I take that as a personal compliment." "Take it as you like, it will not make it one." "_Sehr gutig_. I do not need telling. When I want things I take them. It is a habit of mine." He spoke sheer, brutal truth. Oh God! what of Patrine’s had he not coveted and taken, only two horrible days ago. "So," he went on, "you will have to post your letter. I will stop at a _Postammt_ and drop it in for you. You see, I am greedy of your society. At any moment I may be recalled to Germany. One must catch the Bird of Happiness and hold it while one can. Now tell me, is not that a pretty speech?"