"With pleasure," said Berry acidly. "And then I'll help you on with your coat. I may say that, if you touch me with that mammal, I shall press and pull everything I can see and burst into tears. I'm all strung up, I am." There was not much room, and the roller was ponderously closing in, but with a protruding tongue our luckless chauffeur crept slowly past the monster in safety, and a moment later we were scudding up the Poitiers road. Now that we were clear of the town, we set to work diligently. Adèle pored over the map and the Michelin Guide; Berry turned himself into a mechanical doll; and I maintained a steady issue of orders until my throat was sore. The weather was fair and the going was good. Her new-born stiffness beginning to wear off, Pong went better than ever. Berry excelled himself. With every kilometre we covered my spirits rose, and when we overtook Jonah on the outskirts of Chatellerault, I could have flung up my cap. The latter was clearly immensely surprised to see us, and when we stopped, as was our custom, at a _charcuterie_ to buy our lunch, and Ping had followed our example, leaned out of his window and asked me pointedly whether my leg was yet stiff. Concealing a smile, I regretted that it was. Jonah fingered his chin. "Of course," he said warily, "it's a condition precedent that you don't drive to-morrow." "Of course," I agreed. The confession of uneasiness, however, did my heart good. It was plain that my imperturbable cousin was getting nervous. As we moved off again-- "We must lunch soon," said Berry. "My mouth's watering so fast, I can't keep up with it." I patted Adèle's arm. "Now you know the way to his heart," I said. "Straight through the stomach, and----" "But how gross!" said Berry. "And how untrue! Naturally ascetic, but for the insistence of my physicians, I should long ago have let my hair grow and subsisted entirely on locusts and motionless lemonade. But a harsh Fate ruled otherwise. Excuse me, but I think that that there basket or ark in which the comfort is enshrined is rather near the conduit through which flows that sparkling liquid which, when vapoured, supplies our motive power. And _foie gras_ is notoriously susceptible to the baneful influence of neighbouring perfumes. Thank you. If those bits of heaven were to taste of petrol, it would shorten my life. And now, where was I?" I turned to Adèle. "He's off," said I. "The prospect of gluttony always loosens his tongue. There's really only one way to stop him. What about lunching at the top of this hill? Or can you bear it till we've passed Poitiers?" A mischievous look came into Adèle's brown eyes. "It's not half-past twelve yet," she said slowly. My brother-in-law groaned. "Still ... I don't know.... After all, we did have breakfast rather early, didn't we?" Berry smacked his lips. "A sensible woman," he said, "is above boobies." As he spoke, Ping swept by stormily.