“The men can’t see to it. Oh, this is ridiculous! Charles, I ask you to stop.”
“Stopping’s no good,” drawled Charles.
“Isn’t it?” said Margaret, and jumped straight out of the car.
She fell on her knees, cut her gloves, shook her hat over her ear. Cries of alarm followed her. “You’ve hurt yourself,” exclaimed Charles, jumping after her.
“Of course I’ve hurt myself!” she retorted.
“May I ask what—”
“There’s nothing to ask,” said Margaret.
“Your hand’s bleeding.”
“I know.”
“I’m in for a frightful row from the pater.”