"Do you drive, Brat?" Bee asked, as they prepared to get into the car.
"Yes, but I'd rather you did. You know the"-"road" he had almost said-"the car better."
"Nice of you to call it a car. I expect you're used to a left-hand drive."
"Yes."
"I'm sorry it had to be the bug. It isn't often the car goes wrong on us. Jameson has all its inside out on the garage floor, and is conducting a post-mortem in a silent fury."
"I like the bug. I came from the station in it yesterday."
"So you did. What a very long time ago that seems. Does it seem like that to you?"
"Yes." It seemed years away to him.
"Have you heard that we've been saved from the Clarion?" she asked, as they sped down the avenue to the accompaniment of the bug's sewing-machine song.
"No?"