"I dreamed last night," said Jill, "that you and Stephen were having a fencing match. The worst of it was"—she sighed—-"I woke before the end!"
She settled herself back more firmly in her corner as the car swept them down a steep incline between high hedges bared of leaves, gathering impetus for the upward hill beyond. Roddy sat in front, his cap pulled down to his eyes, his back like a ramrod, every muscle braced. He was deeply engrossed in watching Bethune drive, pouring questions into his new friend's ear.
McTaggart pulled the rug higher about the girl as the keen wind smote them with its frosty breath. "You don't feel cold, Jill?" His blue eyes rested affectionately on the glowing face beside him.
"Not a bit! I love it." She returned to her dream. "Wasn't it annoying to wake like th
