"What's the matter with you?
Obey me, do you hear?
Not so fast!" A whiff of alcoholic breath suddenly told her the truth.

For a second she sat there, as though petrified, with fear now for the first time clutching at her heart.
"Stop at once!" she cried, gripping the man by the collar of his livery.
"You--you're drunk, Herrick! I--I'll have you discharged, at once, when we get home.

Stop, do you hear me?
You're not fit to drive.

I'll take the wheel myself!" But Herrick, hopelessly under the influence of the poison, which had now produced its full effect, paid no heed.
"Y'-- can't dri' _thish_ car!" he muttered, in maudlin accents.

"Too big--too heavy for--hc!--woman! I--_I_ dri' it all right, drunk or sober! Good chauffeur--good car--I know thish car! You won't fire me--hc!--for takin' drink or two, huh?
I drive you all ri'-- drive you to New York or to--hc!--Hell! Same thing, no difference, ha! ha!--I--" A sudden blaze of rage crimsoned the girl's face.