sensibilities--it was a knife-thrust.

"What on earth are you laughing at, man?" I demanded, whipping off the
goggles that made me look like a senile owl, and facing him angrily,
as he had a sudden need to cover his mouth with a decorous palm.

"I beg pardon, me lord," he said. "It was coming on you sudden in them
things. I never thought to see you, me lord, in hotomobeel
clothes--you who always was so down on the 'orrid machines."

"Well, help me out of them," I answered, feeling the justice of
Locker's implied rebuke. I twisted my wrists free of the elastic
wind-cuffs, and shed the unpleasantly heavy coat that Winston had
insisted I should buy.

"And you such a friend of the 'orse too, me lord," added Locker, aware
that he had me at a disadvantage.

I winced, and felt the need of self-justification. "You're right," I
said. "I never thought I should come to it. But all men fall sooner or
later, and I have held out longer than most. Don't be afraid, though,
that I am going to have a machine of my own: I haven't quite sunk to
that; if everybody else I know has. I'm only going across France on
Mr. Winston's car. He has a new one--the latest make. He tells me that
when he 'lets her out' she does seventy an hour."

"Wot--miles, me lord?" Locker almost dropped the coat of which he had
disencumbered me.

"Kilometres. It's the speed of a good quick train."