Paul sat in the driver's seat frowning.

    "What's been happening?" I asked. "That was so strange, back in the restaurant. Is your mother usually that high-strung?"

    Paul did not answer me. His face was a mask of disturbed emotions.

    He was speeding. I watched the needle on the speedometer tip past 100 km/hŠ110km/hŠInstinctively I grabbed the dashboard. "Slow down," I said.

    Paul seemed to ignore me. The needle continued to move.

    "Slow down!" I yelled with greater urgency.

    Red light. The car finally jerked to a stop, throwing both of us forward. We sat back in our seats and breathed in heavily.

    "I'm sorry" he said.