disregard of current unpleasantness.

Nothing was said, however, to confirm or dispel this suspicion of a
disagreement between the man and the car. Sir Richmond directed and
assisted Dr. Martineau's man to adjust the luggage at the back, and Dr.
Martineau watched the proceedings from his dignified front door. He was
wearing a suit of fawn tweeds, a fawn Homburg hat and a light Burberry,
with just that effect of special preparation for a holiday which betrays
the habitually busy man. Sir Richmond's brown gauntness was, he noted,
greatly set off by his suit of grey. There had certainly been some sort
of quarrel. Sir Richmond was explaining the straps to Dr. Martineau's
butler with the coldness a man betrays when he explains the uncongenial
habits of some unloved intimate. And when the moment came to start and
the little engine did not immediately respond to the electric starter,
he said: "Oh! COME up, you--!"

His voice sank at the last word as though it was an entirely
confidential communication to the little car. And it was an extremely
low and disagreeable word. So Dr. Martineau decided that it was not his
business to hear it....

It was speedily apparent that Sir Richmond was an experienced and
excellent driver. He took the Charmeuse out into the traffic of
Baker Street and westward through brisk and busy streets and roads
to Brentford and Hounslow smoothly and swiftly, making a score of
unhesitating and accurate decisions without apparent thought. There
was very little conversation until they were through Brentford. Near
Shepherd's Bush, Sir Richmond had explained, "This is not my own
particular car. That was butted into at the garage this morning and
its radiator cracked. So I had to fall back on this. It's quite a good