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Updated: May 20, 2025
"You're engaged to me till the end of the month," said Sealman as firmly as if he alluded to a promise of marriage. "I've refused two other gentlemen. If you don't use the machine, you'll pay, anyhow." Angela would have given much if she had brought Kate. To be alone with these two monsters in an uninhabited world under a blazing sun, passionately hungry and futilely angry, was a dull adventure.
Sealman and a codfish became so marked that Angela feared he was going to be ill. "You don't know what the car can do," he answered reproachfully. "Perhaps not," she admitted. "Very well, we'll start at eight." "Better make it earlier." She made it earlier, and was actually ready; but at half-past eight Sealman appeared on foot.
He's high up on one of our biggest railroads, too, since he gave up law because he'd no time to follow it; and he's not much over forty now. That's California, Mrs. May. That's typical. Falconer's as different from a rough fellow like me, as as I hope I'm different from Sealman."
Hilliard's chauffeur; but Nick understood. "I've been learnin' to drive, the last few days," he said. "And I've seen you, now and then, runnin' about in that little car. It's an old acquaintance of mine. Sealman tried to sell it to me last winter. I was sort of sorry to see he'd got hold of you." Nick was out in the road now, standing beside her, and the big yellow car was purring an invitation.
She began to see that Mr. Sealman had cast himself for the part of Old Man of the Sea, in a travel drama of which she was heroine. She felt alone in the world. "It will probably end in my having to buy the little blue brute and burn it," she thought. "But even then the codfish will probably insist on being my butler."
Sealman looked as if his health were more fragile than that of the car. When he clawed obscurely at the crystallized sugar ornaments under the bright bonnet of the fainting Model, his air looked so dejected, his eyes so hollow, and his smile so wan that Angela's fury melted into pity. Passionate resolves to shed him and his blue abomination died within her as she watched his struggles.
"That's the motor I wanted to ask you about, a day or two ago," Angela said, bending forward to speak to Sealman for she had kept her resolution to sit behind him. "It's the handsomest I've seen; and we've met it several times; two men in it always, in chauffeur's caps and goggles." "Oh, that car!" remarked the inventor with indifference. "That's what we call Smith's Folly.
"Well, some folks'd ruther save this trip for a weddin' journey," Sealman suggested. "I suppose widows have weddin' trips, don't they?" He gazed thoughtfully at the gray coat and gray-veiled motor hat which Angela wore to protect her from the dust.
"I just thought I'd stop her and point out the Santa Ana, for fear you'd miss it." He was anxious to conceal the fact that it was the Model who had "just thought," but, urging her to begin again where she had left off, the little brute refused to budge. "Is anything wrong?" asked Angela, when Sealman had worked in worried silence for several minutes.
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