"Neither am I a fool.
I don't see any use in risking our lives and my master's motor-car, because you want to get home." "Naturally," Gerald answered calmly, "but remember this.

I am responsible for your car--not you.

Mr.Fentolin is my uncle." The chauffeur nodded shortly.
"You're Mr.Gerald Fentolin, aren't you, sir ?" he remarked.

"I thought I recognised you." "I am," Gerald admitted.

"We've had a rough journey, but it doesn't seem sense to turn back now, does it, with the house in sight ?" "That's all very well, sir," the chauffeur objected doubtfully, "but I don't believe the road's even passable, and the floods seem to me to be rising." "Try it," the young man begged.