“Well, what do you think I am?” she demands. “You guys think that just because a girl comes for a ride....”
“Oh, can it,” wearily. “Of course I don’t.”
“Well....” she says, as you pull her over to him, “It really is getting sort of late.”
“It’s early,” you say. She shakes her head, looking very uncomfortable hunched up against your shoulder. She suffers it for a while, but her mind is elsewhere.
“We have to go back,” she suddenly announces. “Right away. Rosie, we have to go back.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Rosie assents, cheerfully. It all seems to be the same to Rosie. “We gotta go, Bill.”
“Oh, wait a minute, can’t you?” you say, exasperated. “It isn’t late at all.”
Adamant, your girl shakes her head and looks expectantly at the driver. You and Bill glance at each other and raise your eyebrows.
“You wait a minute,” you say, meaningly, and Bill obligingly turns back and looks at the scenery in front of the car.
“Now listen,” you say. “You’re a long ways from home.”