They crawl in this place like cockroaches in a warm corner of
the fireplace until they die. Look at the scabby frontage of the
house. Look at the men's faces. . . . Yes. So! Adequato.
Aspettate. . . . Get back into the carriage, Amanda."
"You know it's dangerous, Cheetah. The horse is a shier. That man
is blind in one eye."
"Get back into the carriage," said Benham, whitely angry. "I AM
GOING TO DRIVE!"
"But--!"
Just for a moment Amanda looked scared. Then with a queer little
laugh she jumped in again.
Amanda was never a coward when there was excitement afoot. "We'll
smash!" she cried, by no means woefully.
"Get up beside me," said Benham speaking in English to the driver
but with a gesture that translated him. Power over men radiated
from Benham in this angry mood. He took the driver's seat. The
little driver ascended and then with a grim calmness that brooked no
resistance Benham reached over, took and fastened the apron over
their knees to prevent any repetition of the jumping out tactics.
The recovering landlord became voluble in the doorway.
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