"Take a last look, Rupert," bade David, as he stood in the dark paddock. "We're retired; come help me get used to it."
Rupert passed a glance over the deserted track.
"I guess my sentiment-tank has given out," he sweetly acknowledged. "The Mercury factory sounds pretty good to me, Darling. And I guess we can make a joy ride out of living, on any track, if we enter for it."
"I guess we can," laughed David Ffrench. "Get in opposite Emily. We're going home to try."