She was astounded at her own words. They came from her lips with no volition of her own, leaping automatically in response to his. She felt only the stimulation of his interest, of his electrical presence beside her, of their swift rush through the darkness pierced by flashing lights.
"You don't, of course, compare me to putty?"
"Well, of course, it does set and stay put, in the end. You can depend on it."
"You can count on me, all right. I'm crazy about you."
"Crazy people are unaccountable."
Her heart was racing. The speed of the car, the rush of the air, were in her veins. She had never dreamed that she could talk like this. This man aroused in her qualities she had never known she possessed, and their discovery intoxicated her.
He was silent a moment, turning the car into a quieter street. There was laughter behind them, one of the others called: "We should worry about the cops! Go to it, Bert!" He did not reply, and the leap of the car swept their chatter backward again.
"Going too fast for you?" She read a double meaning and a challenge in the words.
"I've never gone too fast!" she answered. "I love to ride like this. Where are we going?"
"Anywhere you want to go, as long as it's with me."