The starting-handle rattled over the bonnet and fell to the
ground....
The paroxysm was over. Ten seconds later this cataclysmal lunatic had
reverted to sanity--a rather sheepish sanity.
He thrust his hands into his trouser pockets and turned his back on the
car. He remarked in a voice of melancholy detachment: "It was a mistake
to bring that coupe."
Dr. Martineau had assumed an attitude of trained observation on the side
path. His hands rested on his hips and his hat was a little on one
side. He was inclined to agree with Sir Richmond. "I don't know," he
considered. "You wanted some such blow-off as this."
"Did I?"
"The energy you have! That car must be somebody's whipping boy."
"The devil it is!" said Sir Richmond, turning round sharply and staring
at it as if he expected it to display some surprising and yet familiar
features. Then he looked questioningly and suspiciously at his
companion.
"These outbreaks do nothing to amend the originating grievance," said
the doctor. "No. And at times they are even costly. But they certainly
lift a burthen from the nervous system.... And now I suppose we have to
get that little ruin to Maidenhead."
"Little ruin!" repeated Sir Richmond. "No. There's lots of life in the
little beast yet.
Pages:
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44