de; see how she watches the two huge exhibits in front of her.
They are very new bloaters, and one of them--oh, horror!--one of them
is going to buy. He has never bought before; she knows his sort. He
will drive her to death; he may even drive her himself; he will stroke
her lovely coat in a familiar, proprietary fashion; he will show her
off unceasingly to other bloaters till she is hot all over and the
water boils in her radiator. He will hold forth with a horrible
intimacy and a yet more horrible ignorance on the most private secrets
of her inner life. Not one throb of her young cylinders will be
sacred, yet never will he understand her as she would like to be
understood. He will mess her with his muddy boots; he will scratch her
paint; he will drop tobacco-ash all over her cushions--not from pipes;
cigars only....

There--he has bought her. It is a tragedy. Let us move on.

Here is a little _coupe_--a smart young creature with a nice blue
coat, fond of town, I should say, but quite at home in the country.
She also is inspecting two bloaters. But these two are very shy. In
fact they are not really bloaters at all; they are rather a pair of
nice-mannered fresh herrings, not long mated. The male had something
to do with that war, I should think; the _coupe_ would help him a good
deal. The lady likes her because she is dark-blue. The other one likes
her because of something to do with her works; but he is very reverent
and tactful about it. He seems to know that he is being scrutinised,
for he is nervous, and scarcely dares to speak about her to the groom
in the top-hat. He will drive her himself; he will look after her
himself; he will know all about her, all about her moods and fancies
and secret failings; he will humour and coax her, and she will serve
him very nobly.

Already, you see, they have given her a name--"Jane," I think they
said; they will creep off into the country with her when the summer
comes, all by themselves; they will plunge into the middle of thick
forests and sit down happily in the shade at midday and look at her;
and she will love them.

But the question is----Ah, they are shaking their heads; they are
edging away. She is too much. They look back sadly as they go. Another
tragedy....

Now I am going to be a bloater myself. Here is a jolly one, though her
stable-name is much too long. She is a Saloon-de-Luxe, and she
only costs L2,125 (why 5, I wonder--why not 6?) I can run to that,
_sure