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inside.
     He again stepped into the hurricane and fought his way back to the car. He tried to shout to them that it was all right, but the wind blew his words down his throat, leaving him gasping. He pointed to the house and took hold of Stella's arm. She hesitated for a moment, then slid out of the car. It took quite a time to get her into the shelter of the lounge. Twice they lost their balance and sprawled into a big pool of rain water, and by the time they got inside both of them were soaked and plastered with mud.
     Even at that moment Denny felt his blood quicken a trifle when he saw Stella in the light. Her jersey and skirt clung to her figure, revealing every line. The superb sweep of her hips down to her feet and the curve of her firm full breasts enchanted him. He said, “You look cute like that.”
     She turned her head. “Oh, don't look at me,” she said. “Please go and help Gerda.”
     He laughed a little nervously and turned away from her. Gerda stood in the doorway watching them. The wet jersey on her big figure made her look even more mannish than she actually was.
     She said: “I've locked up the car. The rain isn't getting in. I think it will be all right to leave.”
     Denny shrugged. “It'll have to be,” he said. “I've had enough of that wind for tonight. My God! I'm wet through. Maybe I'd better get a suitcase in.”
     Gerda went to the door. “You'll need some help,” she said, and together they battled their way once more to the car. Denny was a little piqued to see that Gerda managed the wind much better than he did. In fact, once she came to his aid and shoved him forward. He was equally astonished at her strength. Together they brought the suit-case back and closed the door on the storm.
     “You're hellish strong,” Denny gasped, wrenching off his sodden collar. “Quite a Samson.”
     Gerda didn't say anything. She disappeared into the kitchen.
     Denny wandered into the lounge, where Stella was standing shivering before an empty grate. She held her wet skirt away from her body as he came in.
     “Have a nip of this,” Denny said, producing his flask, “otherwise you'll catch a cold.” He was feeling shivery himself.
     They both had a long pull from the flask and immediately felt better for it.
     “You ought to get out of those things,” Denny then said with a grin, “although they suit you like that.”
     Stella flushed hotly. “You're making me feel awfully uncomfortable, Mr. Merlin,” she said. “I wish you wouldn't.”
     Denny took another pull from his flask. “Well, I guess I don't want to do that,” he said. “But you shouldn't have such a nice little figure.”
     Gerda came in with some paper and wood. “Get those things off, Stella,” she said, “the bathroom's down the passage. There's an electric geyser and I've turned it on. I've found a wrap for you. Hurry up.”
     Stella went away and Gerda knelt down before the fire. In a few minutes she had a roaring fire going.
     Denny looked at her admiringly. “I can see why you're the boss of the outfit now,” he said. “Are you always as efficient as this?”
     Gerda looked over her shoulder at him with her hard green eyes. “I have to be,” she said. “You aren't a great help, are you?”
     Denny scowled. “You didn't give me much time,” he retorted.
     She got to her feet. “Don't let's fight,” she said. “Suppose you change too. I've had a look in the pantry. There's some food there. I guess we can make ourselves quite at home.”
     Denny scratched his head. “Bit rough on the owners,” he observed.
     “I see you haven't my philosophy,” Gerda returned, moving across the room to the door. “Still, you have plenty of money, haven't you? Leave them something. That's what money is for, isn't it?”
     Denny