_Mrs. F._ I don't believe he does, or he wouldn't dawdle like this. If
you won't speak to him, I must. (_Lets down the glass and puts out her
head._) PEACOCK!

_A Blurred Shadow on the Box._ Yes, M'm.

_Mrs. F._. What are we stopping for like this?

_The Shadow_. Fog very thick just 'ere, M'm. Can't see what's in front
of us, M'm.

_Mrs. F._ It's just as safe to keep moving as to stand still--go on at
once.

_The S._ Very good, M'm. (_To horse._) Pull urp! [_Crash!_

_Voice from the Unseen_. What the blanky blank, &c.

_Peacock_. There _is_ suthin in front, M'm. A van, from 'is langwich,
M'm.

_Mrs. F._ (_sinking back_). MARMADUKE, this is awful. I'd no idea the
fog was like this--or I should never have--(_With temper._) Really,
people have no _right_ to ask one out on such a night.

_Mr. F._ (_with the common-sense that makes him "so aggravating at
times."_) Well, FANNY, you could hardly expect 'em to foresee the
weather three weeks ahead!

_Mrs. F._ At all events, _you_ might have seen what it was going to be