She had received two full half-hour lessons in driving from the man who delivered the car, and in that enlightened year of 1925 this was considered quite sufficient. Nobody had to take a driving-test. You were your own judge of competence, and as soon as you felt you were ready to go, off you jolly well went.
As we all climbed into the car, our excitement was so intense we could hardly bear it.
'How fast will it go?' we cried out. 'Will it do fifty miles an hour?'
'It'll do sixty!' the sister answered. Her tone was so confident and cocky it should have scared us to death, but it didn't.
'Oh, let's make it do sixty!' we shouted. 'Will you promise to take us up to sixty?'
'We shall probably go faster than that,' the sister answered, pulling on her driving-gloves and tying a scarf over her head in the approved driving-fashion of the period.
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