“It doesn’t in the least follow that you know anything about it,” said the girl. “I was driving that one.” She pointed to the car in the middle of the road. “And I haven’t the remotest idea what’s wrong.”
This time Geoffrey felt that the girl, though pretty, deserved a snub. He was prepared to help her, at some personal inconvenience, but he felt that he had a right to expect politeness in return.
“I don’t think you ought to have drawn up right in the middle of the road,” he said. “It’s beginning to get dark and if anything came down the road at all fast there’d be an accident.”
“I didn’t draw up in the middle of the road,” said the girl.
Geoffrey looked at her car. It was in the middle, the very middle of the road.
“I didn’t draw up at all,” said the girl. “The beastly thing just stopped there itself. But I don’t mind telling you that if I could, I’d have turned the car across the road so as to block the way altogether. I’d rather there wasn’t any room to pass. I wanted anyone who came along to stop and help me.”
Geoffrey remained polite, which was very much to his credit
“I see she’s a Ford,” he said, “and Fords are a bit hard to start sometimes, especially in cold weather. I’ll have a try.”
He went to the front of the car and seized the crank handle. He swung it, jerked, it, pulled at it with his full strength. There was a slight gurgling noise occasionally, but the engine refused to start. Geoffrey stood erect and wiped his forehead. The evening was chilly, but he had no reason to complain of being cold. The girl sat on her stone at the side of the road and smoked a fresh cigarette.
“I don’t think you’ll do much good that way,” she said. “I’ve been at that for hours.”