"Is he reliable?
Or do you think he will--talk ?" "Judson," replied Garth, "has been in my service long enough to know the meaning of the word 'discretion.'" Trent drove the car steadily enough through town, but, as soon as they emerged on to the great London main road, he let her out and they swept rapidly along through the lingering summer twilight.
"Are you nervous ?" he asked.

"Do you mind forty or fifty miles an hour when we've a clear stretch ahead of us ?" "Eighty, if you like," she replied succinctly.
She felt the car leap forward like a living thing beneath them as it gathered speed.
"Do you think--is it possible that we can overtake them ?" she asked anxiously.
"It's got to be done," he answered, and she was conscious of the quiet driving-force that lay behind the speech--the stubborn resolution of the man which she had begun to recognize as his most dominant characteristic.
She wondered, as she had so often wondered before, whether any one had ever yet succeeded in turning Garth Trent aside from his set purpose, whatever it might chance to be.

She could not imagine his yielding to either threats or persuasions.

However much it might cost him, he would carry out his intention to the bitter end, even though its fulfillment might involve the shattering of the whole significance of life.
"Besides,"-- his voice cut across the familiar tenor of her thoughts--"Kent will probably stop to dine at some hotel _en route_.

We shan't.