“What are they?”
“What make—do you mean?”
“Exactly,” he answered.
“A ‘Daimler’ and a ‘Morris-Oxford.’”
Anthony made a gesture of annoyance. “Had them long?”
“The Daimler about four years—the Morris-Oxford only a few months—February, I think we bought it. Why?”
He waved her question on one side, swinging a question back to her—“What made you buy it?”
She thought hard for a moment. Then her face cleared. “The other car we had at that time kept giving trouble. The engine was continually giving us trouble.”
Anthony leaned across—nervously eager with excitement—“What was the other car—Miss Considine?”
“The old one?—a ‘Bean,’ Mr. Bathurst.”