“It doesn’t require much effort of understanding to think that out. Is the onion or the mangel-wurzel to be your hero?”
“You are unsympathetic. I shall not tell you any more.”
“Not at all. I am most interested really. I should make the cabbage your hero, and the onion your heroïne, then she can weep on his breast.” They swerved violently, and with a little gasp she added, “All the same, I’ve no desire to weep on the highway underneath a motor-car. What are you doing?”
“I don’t know. The steering-wheel seems a bit odd.”
They stopped to examine the wheel, and almost immediately, out of the gathering darkness behind shot another car, hooting violently to them to get out of the way. Unable to stop the oncoming car in time, Dick tried to move aside, failed, and in less than a minute the newcomer, in spite of brakes swiftly adjusted, crashed into them, smashing their lamp, and badly damaging the back near-side wheel of the car.
“Well, I’m blowed!” said Dick, “that’s the only moment in the whole day you shouldn’t have been on that particular square yard of the entire globe. Any other moment, I could either have moved aside or stopped you in time.”
The occupant of the other car, who was driving alone, sprang out and came briskly forward.
“What the devil!...” he began, then noticed the lady, and stopped short.
“It was certainly the devil,” said Dick, ruefully examining his battered wheel, and “I always thought he was credited with the deceny to look after his own. How have you fared?”
“Well, he seems to have looked after me all right,” in a cheery voice; “there’s nothing that will prevent my going on to town. But if you will pardon my curiosity, why take root in the middle of the road and ask for trouble?”