"It's meant for a salmon with a cravat round its neck, and a pair of top-boots, only I can't draw a salmon to save my life!"
He looked injured.
"I knew what all the rest were!"
She took the sheet from him. He moved towards the door.
"Will you give O'Brien my message?"
"You're not going! Please put up with me till the others come in. I'll just go and wash my hands. Sit down."
She came back presently, gave a piece of coal a poke with her foot, sat down, looked into the red heart of the fire, then across at him.
"Do you really like a motor better than a horse?" she said.
He stared at her, astonished.
"A motor—better than a horse? Great Scott, no! What made you ask?"