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business to find out,' he answered her coolly. And as he spoke he shot a glance at the pilot. Willy began to speak. He got as far as, We've been looking....' Then he caught Reeve's eye, and subsided into silence.
    It was almost as if Reeve's look warned the pilot of something. But what? She cast the two a puzzled glance. If they were based at the aerodrome, it seemed natural enough for them to want to explore the district while they were there, although—Marion glanced at the sleek luxury car—they would hardly stand in need of the public transport facilities, such as they were. It struck her suddenly that she had not seen either of the men in uniform. Perhaps Reeve did not have to wear one, although he had about him an air of confident authority that would fit well with rank. But surely if they belonged to one of the airlines, Willy, as the pilot, would be required to don the garb of his status. They were both in mufti now, Willy in sweater and denims, which kept his portly form tidy without trouble, and Reeve in black, tightly fitting slacks and a white open-necked shirt with the sleeves rolled above his elbows, showing darkly tanned, muscular arms. Marion felt glad, now, she had not succumbed to an earlier temptation to dress in the slacks and sweater she wore yesterday, which would have been ideal for a ride in the post van, but her slender-fitting cream skirt and brown shirt-blouse pleated to her waist by a brown patent leather belt were a more fitting outfit for a car ride into town.
    'Would you like to travel in the front or the back?' Willy asked hopefully, and Marion hesitated. She did not want to travel in either. Her first instinct was to refuse to travel with them at all. But she had promised to obtain a special book for her uncle. The library had telephoned to say it was ready, and she did not want to disappoint him. He was something of a historian, and in his spare time he was writing a book on road building going back to the earliest times, and the changes, both beneficial and otherwise, that it had brought in its train. The book he wanted from the library was a reference volume that would be invaluable to him at the stage he had just reached. The weight of the books under her arm reminded her of her obligations to her only relative. She could feel Reeve's eyes on her, watching to see what her reaction would be. No doubt he would think he had won, but she knew the real reason for accepting a lift from him, if he did not. She shrugged with feigned indifference, and tried to ignore the gleam her submission brought to the grey eyes.
    'In front, please.' That way she would have Willy's company in the driving seat, not Reeve's. She felt grateful that the car did not have a front bench seat that would accommodate three.
    'Let me take your books, they look heavy.' Reeve held out his hands for them. 'They'll travel in the back of the car quite safely,' he insisted as she hesitated, and she relinquished them in silence. He waited for a second or two while Willy handed her into the car and shut the door, and then he went round to the other side, and Marion sat back and relaxed. She could rely on Willy, she felt sure, to keep up a cheerful flow of conversation, and with Reeve safely ensconced in the back of the car she could will herself to forget he was there.
    She heard the rear door of the car open, but she did not look round. The books made a light thump on the back seat, and then the vehicle rocked to the greater weight of a human body. A hand reached down to the driver's door, and she turned to smile a welcome at Willy. It froze on her face as a brown arm with a white shirt sleeve rolled up past the elbow reached inside towards the steering wheel, and Reeve jack-knifed himself into the driver's seat.
    She would never have accepted the lift if she had known Reeve was going to drive. As Willy was the pilot, she had automatically supposed that he would take over this chore too. She simmered silently. The deep hide