Chapter 33

Valancy was still leaning forward. Her little hat with its crimson rose was tilted down over one eye—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.” Uncle Wellington climbed foolishly and feebly into his…