"Oh, well; nice to have ladies' company for a change, eh, Bill?"
"Don't you have lots of it?" asked Erica. "I thought lorries were very popular." And before the astounded man could make up his mind whether this skinny child was being rude, provocative, or merely matter-of-fact, she went on, "Do you give lifts to tramps, ever, by the way?"
"Never!" said the driver promptly, glad to feel his feet on firm ground.
"That's a pity. I'm interested in tramps."
"Christian interest?" inquired Bill, turning the sizzling bacon in the pan.
"No. Literary."
"Well, now. You writing a book?"
"Not exactly. I'm gathering material for someone else. You must see a lot of tramps, even if you don't give them lifts," she persisted, to the driver.
"No time to see anyone when you're driving that there."
"Tell her about Harrogate Harry," prompted Bill, breaking eggs. "I saw him in your cab last week sometime."