"We will wrap ourselves up well," said he. "It is far from warm, and there is no need to catch cold—it is not part of our programme!... You can start now, chauffeur! We are ready."
Once in motion, the abbé pointed to a voluminous package which prevented Fandor from stretching his legs.
"We can change places from time to time, for you cannot be comfortable with this package encumbering the floor of the car like this."
"Oh," replied Fandor-Vinson, "one takes things as they come!... But we should be much more comfortable if we fastened this rather clumsy piece of baggage to the front seat, beside the chauffeur, who can keep an eye on it!"
"Corporal! You cannot be thinking of what you are saying!" The priest's reply was delivered in a dry authoritative voice.
"I have put my foot in it," thought Fandor. "I should just like to know how!" He was about to speak: the abbé cut in:
"I am very tired, Corporal, so excuse me if I doze a little! In an hour or so, I shall be quite refreshed. There will be ample time for a talk after that."
Fandor could but agree.
The car was speeding up the Avenue des Champs-Elysées. They were leaving Paris—for what destination?
"Does your chauffeur know the route, Monsieur l'Abbé?"