"You bet you do," said the chauffeur stoutly, "or else it's all off." He reached out and drew the auto-door half shut; his mouth tilted up in a dry way, his eye slanted humorously upon her.
"All right," Daisy countered, "it's all off, then, if that's how you feel. I don't know as I'd have gone with you anyhow. I—I've got carfare—ten cents carfare—if I should take a notion to go."
"How you goin' to find your way?"
"Where?"
"Park."
"How d'you know I'd go to the park?"
"I know blame well you'll go there," said the chauffeur, "now I've told you about it. Kiddo, the hay sticks out o' your hair all over. What kind o' farmers was your people?"
"The kind that minded their own business." Daisy, with a little swing of her hips, turned away, chin and nose in the air; "Good-night, Mr. City Bug. I'm much obliged for your offer; but if I want to go to the park, I'll pick up some nice fellow uptown and get him to take me. Some nice fellow!"
"Here!" the chauffeur jerked out, rattling the door, "jump into this car, you—you—"