"But we're not there yet," said Adèle.
This was unhappily true.
Pong was the faster car, and Adèle was already going the deuce of a pace. But there was traffic to come, and two level crossings lay between us and Lourdes.
I turned and looked out of the glass in the back of the hood. The English Rose had thrust herself inelegantly on to the petrol tank. Her right foot was jammed against a wing, so that her shapely leg acted as a brace: her arms clasped the two spare wheels convulsively: her head was thrown back, and her lips were moving…. Of our pursuers there was no sign. That moment we had rounded a bend, but when a moment later we rounded another they were still out of sight.
I began to wonder whether it was safe to stop and take Berry inboard….
Then the Klaxon belched, and a cry from Adèle made me turn.
Two hundred yards ahead was a flock of sheep—all over the road.
We had to slow down to a pace which jabbed at my nerves.
I did not know what to do.
I did not know whether to seize the chance and take Berry inside, or whether to put the obstacle between Pong and the terror behind, and I felt I must look at the sheep.