human
One-fifty, groaned Frank.
gpt
I might as well take the next ship back to America. I've lost out. I'm disgraced.
human
Look here, Armstrong, I'll take you to London in this machine.
gpt
But it isn't ours, and you have no license to drive.
human
It's ours as long as we pay ten shillings an hour for it, license or no license.
gpt
You'd get lost again.
human
No, no, it's a straight road. I looked it up once. You follow the railroad. Look here, he added in great excitement,
gpt
I'm game for it, said Frank,
human
Nothing's going wrong. I got you into this trouble and I'm going to get you out somehow. Climb in and hold onto your headgear, we are only going to hit the high places. He shot away from the station and swung into the great north road, sign-marked
gpt
London,
human
Nothing to it, Frank, boasted the confident chauffeur.
gpt
This is the way they all should have come up, plenty of ozone and action, no stuffy cars. We may even beat them to the club if we have luck,