"Then you would have had a real charge against me," I said, "for breaking the rules of traffic."
Finally he asked "Are you going to turn or not?" and I said "I guess we will turn here" and turned around, stopping in front of the Marguereta Restaurant.
"What are you stopping for?" he asked.
"The officers who are in charge of the car are in there at their dinner," I said, "you had better speak to them." Gee, he was mad."
All the rest of the afternoon I chuckled with delight at the picture of the anger of that cub six foot two policeman as he was being whirled along Oxford Street against his will, to a restaurant he did not want to go to, to meet people he didn't want to see.