At the station she thought Gus Trenor seemed surprised, and not wholly unrelieved, to see her. She yielded up the reins of the light runabout in which she had driven over, and as he climbed heavily to her side, crushing her into a scant third of the seat, he said: “Halloo! It isn’t often you honour me. You must have been uncommonly hard up for something to do.” The afternoon was warm, and propinquity made her more than usually conscious that he was red and massive, and that beads of moisture had caused the dust of the train to adhere unpleasantly to the broad expanse of cheek and neck which he turned to her; but she was aware also, from the look in his small dull eyes, that the contact with her freshness and slenderness was as agreeable to him as the sight of a cooling beverage. The perception of this fact helped her to answer gaily: “It’s not often I have the chance. There are too many ladies to dispute the privilege with me.” “The privilege of driving me home? Well, I’m glad you won the race, anyhow. But I know what really happened—my wife sent you. Now didn’t she?” He had the dull man’s unexpected flashes of astuteness, and Lily could not help joining in the laugh with which he had pounced on the truth. “You see, Judy thinks I’m the safest person for you to be with; and she’s quite right,” she rejoined. “Oh, is she, though? If she is, it’s because you wouldn’t waste your time on an old hulk like me. We married men have to put up with what we can get: all the prizes are for the clever chaps who’ve kept a free foot. Let me light a cigar, will you? I’ve had a beastly day of it.” He drew up in the shade of the village street, and passed the reins to her while he held a match to his cigar. The little flame under his hand cast a deeper crimson on his puffing face, and Lily averted her eyes with a momentary feeling of repugnance. And yet some women thought him handsome! As she handed back the reins, she said sympathetically: “Did you have such a lot of tiresome things to do?”