It was a blond head, and what I could see of the face looked attractive.
"Are you sober?" she asked.
"Not always," I answered. "Some times I'm quite cheerful. But I'm some distance from home, and have nothing to be cheerful about, at the moment."
"Try not to be a Cerf," she said angrily. "What I mean is, are you—have you been drinking?"
"Not recently, though I could use some water." I could see her face more clearly now, and it was like the faces of our women, only prettier than most, I thought.
I could see her face more clearly now, and it was like the faces of our women, only prettier than most, I thought.
"Look," she said, "I'm drunk. Could you drive this thing? Could you drive me home?"