“Oh!  I was only going to say that I’m not really the owner-driver of the car.  I’m personal secretary to Mr. Carrel Quire, and it’s really his car.  You see he has three cars, but as there’s been such a fuss about waste lately and he’s so prominent in the anti-squandermania campaign, he prefers to keep only one car in his own name.”

“You don’t mean to sit there and tell me you’re talking about the Secretary for Foreign Affairs!”

“Yes, of course.  Who else?  You know he’s on the continent at present.  He wouldn’t take me with him because he wanted to create an effect of austerity in Paris—­that’s what he said; and I must get this accident affair settled up before he comes back, or he may dismiss me.  I don’t think he will, because I’m a cousin of the late Lady Queenie Paulle—­that’s how I got the place—­but he may.  And then where should I be?  I was told you were so kind and nice—­that’s why I came.”

“I am not kind and I am not nice,” remarked Mr. Prohack, in an acid tone, but laughing to himself because the celebrated young statesman, Mr. Carrel Quire (bald at thirty-five) was precisely one of the ministers who, during the war, had defied and trampled upon the Treasury.  He now almost demoniacally contemplated the ruin of Mr. Carrel Quire.

“You have made a serious mistake in coming to me.  Unfortunately you cannot undo it.  Be good enough to understand that you have not been talking confidentially.”

Miss Winstock ought to have been intimidated and paralysed by the menacing manner of the former Terror of the Departments.  But she was not.

“Please, please, Mr. Prohack,” she said calmly, “don’t talk in that strain.  I distinctly told you I was talking confidentially, and I’m sure I can rely on you—­unless all that I’ve heard about you is untrue; which it can’t be.  I only want matters to be settled quietly, and when Mr. Quire returns he will pay anything that has to be paid—­if it isn’t too much.”

“My chauffeur asserts that you have told a most naughty untruth about the accident.  You say that he ran into you, whereas the fact is that he was nearly standing still while you were going too fast and you skidded badly into him off the tramlines.  And he’s found witnesses to prove what he says.”

“I may have been a little mistaken,” Miss Winstock admitted with light sadness.  “I won’t say I wasn’t.  You know how you are in an accident.”

“I’ve never been in an accident in my life,” Mr. Prohack objected.

“If you had, you’d sympathise with me.”

At this moment the Eagle drew up at the desired destination in Conduit Street.  Mr. Prohack looked at his watch.

“I’m sorry to seem inhospitable,” he said, “but my appointment is extremely important.  I cannot wait.”

“Can I wait?” Miss Winstock suggested.  “I’m quite used to waiting for Mr. Carrel Quire.  If I might wait in the car till you came out....  You see I want to come to an understanding.”