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We got smashed up in the fog." "Oh, my dear! How dreadful! How did it happen?" "Something collided with the car and shot us bang into a motor-bus, and then, almost at the same moment, something else charged into us from behind. So there was a pretty fair mix-up." "Why didn't you tell me before! Was anyone badly hurt? And how did you get home?" Gillian's questions poured out excitedly.
"And you really think such a thing is possible?" I said. "As possible," said Gibberne, and glanced at something that went throbbing by the window, "as a motor-bus. As a matter of fact " He paused and smiled at me deeply, and tapped slowly on the edge of his desk with the green phial. "I think I know the stuff... Already I've got something coming."
"In November," our friend said, taking breath for a fresh spurt of praise, "there were a good many sympathetic afternoons which lent themselves to motor-bus progress up that magnificent avenue, and if you mounted to your place on top, about three o'clock, you looked up or down the long vista of blue air till it turned mirk at either vanishing-point under a sky of measureless cloudlessness.
It proved him a New Yorker and not a wild man from the Arizona desert. The motor-bus ran up Fifth Avenue, cut across to Broadway, passed Columbus Circle, and swept into the Drive. It was a day divinely young and fair. The fragrance of a lingering spring was wafted to the nostrils.
It's only that Futurist Art doesn't appeal to you." "Not exactly! She showed me one of her paintings the other day. It looked like a bad motor-bus accident in a crowded street, and she told me that it represented the physical atmosphere of a woman who had just been jilted." Sara laughed suddenly and hysterically. "How how awfully funny!" she said in an odd, choked voice.
Joanna was horrified and ashamed. A motor-bus had just glided past the cab and she felt that the eyes of all the occupants were upon her. She managed to push Albert away, and sat very erect beside him, with a red face. "It ain't seemly," she muttered under her breath. Bertie was vexed with her. He assumed an attitude intended to convey displeasure.
D'you know why I wouldn't bring that luggage away out of the cabin? Because we had a quarrel about it, at the station, and he said things to me. In fact we weren't speaking. And we weren't speaking last night either. The radiator of his our car leaked, and we had to come home from the Coliseum in a motor-bus. He couldn't get a taxi.
Father had always felt that he had the makings of a motorist, because of the distinct pleasure he had felt in motor-bus rides on New York Sundays, and he tactfully encouraged the son-in-law in the touring mania. So it was really Father's fault that they found the tea-room.
Later in the evening Regimental Sergeant-Major Hoyle came to see us in B Company Officers' Mess, as he frequently does by invitation, and told us that it was now official that we were to move by motor-bus at 7 this morning; so we all decided to go to bed. We got up at 4.30 this morning and had breakfast.
You know those fierce middle-aged Frenchwomen of the bourgeois class, hard as Scotsmen, close as Jews, and with feelings about as fine as those of a motor-bus. She was one of them, and she was the foremost of a largish crowd that collected round me. With her was a pretty girl of about twenty-two.
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