Adèle began to shake with laughter.
"With pleasure," said Berry acidly. "And then I'll help you on with your coat. I may say that, if you touch me with that mammal, I shall press and pull everything I can see and burst into tears. I'm all strung up, I am."
There was not much room, and the roller was ponderously closing in, but with a protruding tongue our luckless chauffeur crept slowly past the monster in safety, and a moment later we were scudding up the Poitiers road.
Now that we were clear of the town, we set to work diligently. Adèle pored over the map and the Michelin Guide; Berry turned himself into a mechanical doll; and I maintained a steady issue of orders until my throat was sore.
The weather was fair and the going was good. Her new-born stiffness beginning to wear off, Pong went better than ever. Berry excelled himself.
With every kilometre we covered my spirits rose, and when we overtook
Jonah on the outskirts of Chatellerault, I could have flung up my cap.
The latter was clearly immensely surprised to see us, and when we stopped, as was our custom, at a charcuterie to buy our lunch, and Ping had followed our example, leaned out of his window and asked me pointedly whether my leg was yet stiff.
Concealing a smile, I regretted that it was.
Jonah fingered his chin.
"Of course," he said warily, "it's a condition precedent that you don't drive to-morrow."