Chapter XXVIMargaret came home a little earlier than usual. Business had been slack and she had got away punctually—a thing which did not very often happen. Greta came in full of conversation, full of Ambrose Kimberley, full of Charles and their run to Hindhead.
‘Where is Charles?’ asked Margaret.
‘He wouldn’t come in. But he’s coming tomorrow, and he’s going to teach me to drive his car. He did teach me a little bit today, only every time I met something I was so frightened I just threw the wheel at him, and he says his nerves won’t stand the strain for more than about a quarter of an hour at a time. I said I didn’t mind going on a bit, and he said it was frightfully brave of me.’
Greta was looking alarmingly pretty. She glowed and shone in the little room. She made Margaret feel dingy
