Adèle sank back in her seat, her cheeks flaming.
In a voice trembling with passion I conjured Berry to proceed.
The moment the car moved, the official sprang forward, gesticulating furiously.
As we passed him, I put out my head.
"Now it's our turn," I said warmly, "to make the postman laugh."
From the hoarse yells which followed us, it was clear that we had left the fellow beside himself with rage. Looking back through the little window, I could see him dancing. Suddenly he stopped, peered after us, and then swung about and ran ridiculously up the street.
"Blast him, he's going to telephone!" said I. "Where's the map?"
Together Adèle and I pored over the sections.
"If," said Berry, "you're going to direct me to turn off, for Heaven's sake be quick about it. At the present moment I'm just blinding along into the blue and, for all I know, an oversized hornets' nest. Of course they mayn't sting when there's an 'r' in the month, but then they mightn't know that. Or am I thinking of oysters?"
"They'll stop us at Vendôme," said I. "Not before. Right oh! We must turn to the right at Cloyes and make for St. Calais. We can get round to Tours that way. It'll take us about twenty miles out of our way, but——"