and go west. You can drive, and we can spell each other.”
“What is that?”
“Take turns driving.”
“I’m driving now.”
“Let’s skip the dull part and get to Chimney Rock and go on to Scott’s Bluff and Torrington and after that you will begin to see it.”
“I have the road maps and the guides and that man who says where to eat, and the A.A.A. guide to the camps and the hotels.”
“Do you work on this much?”
“I work at it in the evenings, with the things you sent me. What kind of a license will we have?”
“Missouri. We’ll buy the car in Kansas City. We fly to Kansas City, don’t you remember? Or we can go on a really good train.”
“I thought we flew to Albuquerque.”
“That was another time.”
“Will we stop early in the afternoons at the best Motel in the A.A.A. book and I make you any drinks you want while you read the paper and Life and Time and Newsweek, and I will read the new fresh Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar?”
“Yes. But we come back here too.”
“Of course. With our car. On an Italian liner; whichever one is best then. We drive straight here from Geneva.”
“You don’t want to stop anywhere for the night?”
“Why? We want to get home to our own house.”
