“What a lovely car, Mr. Ukridge!” said the mother of the family.
“Yes?” said Ukridge, airily. “Yes, quite a good old machine.”
“Can you drive yourself?” asked the smaller of the two small brothers, reverently.
“Oh, yes. Yes. But I generally use Frederick for town work.”
“Would you and your friend care to come in for a cup of tea?” said Mrs. Price.
I could see Ukridge hesitate. He had only recently finished an excellent lunch, but there was that about the offer of a free meal which never failed to touch a chord in him. At this point, however, Frederick spoke.
“’Ere!” said Frederick.
“Eh?”
“Got to get on to Addington,” said Frederick, firmly.
Ukridge started as one waked from a dream. I really believe he had succeeded in persuading himself that the car belonged to him.