Chapter XXIV
The House
at Dover
“YOU don’t mind, I suppose,” said Bundle after a minute or two, “if I drive rather fast? I started later than I meant to do.”
It had seemed to Anthony that they were proceeding at a terrific speed already, but he soon saw that that was nothing compared to what Bundle could get out of the Panhard if she tried.
“Some people,” said Bundle, as she slowed down momentarily to pass through a village, “are terrified of my driving. Poor old father, for instance. Nothing would induce him to come up with me in this old bus.”
Privately, Anthony thought Lord Caterham was entirely justified. Driving with Bundle was not a sport to be indulged in by nervous, middle-aged gentlemen.
“But you don’t seem nervous a bit,” continued Bundle approvingly, as she swept round a corner on two wheels.
“I’m in pretty good training, you see,” explained Anthony gravely. “Also,” he added as an afterthought, “I’m rather in a hurry myself.”
“Shall I speed her up a bit more?” asked Bundle kindly.
“Good Lord, no,” said Anthony hastily. “We’re averaging about fifty as it is.”
“I’m burning with curiosity to know the reason of this sudden departure,” said Bundle, after executing a fanfare upon the Klaxon which must temporarily have deafened the neighbourhood. “But I suppose I mustn’t ask? You’re not escaping from justice, are you?”
“I’m not quite sure,” said Anthony. “I shall know soon.”
“That Scotland Yard man isn’t as much of a rabbit as I thought,” said Bundle thoughtfully.
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