Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)

Kerry Greenwood
looked equally villainous. She surveyed the cart and its relation
to the trucks, blinked, and realized that it was fixable, though
the solution was not evident to anyone in the middle. Picking
her way between fuming hoods and yelling drivers, she went
to the head of the horse, which was standing patiently enough,
took it by the headstall and began to turn it. The dray body
perforce came too, and as it was higher off the ground than
most of the trucks, it passed over the bonnet of a Dodge without
scratching the paint. The horse came placidly with Phryne,
the owner gradually becoming aware that the dray was moving
away. ‘What’re you doing?’ he yelled.
‘I’m shifting your cart,’ said Phryne coldly. ‘Don’t speak to me
in that tone of voice, and you as much use as a steampowered
grapefruit. Come along, Dobbin.’
‘You let go o’ my nag!’ the drayman screamed, bringing a
promising riot to a halt as the rest of the drivers stared.
‘Certainly,’ said Phryne promptly, releasing the headstall. ‘If
you continue down that way I see no reason why this should
not work. In fact, I’ll come with you,’ she added, hopping up
onto the dray seat and gathering the reins. The horse, who had
been very bored with standing still until his hoofs ached with
all that human noise assaulting his fringed ears, was not going
to stop, so the driver had to run after the dray and fling himself
aboard. The trucks fell in behind and the flow of traffic into the
undercroft of the Eastern Market resumed.
Phryne had never been under the market before. She relinquished
the reins to the driver as he flung himself into his seat,
and remarked affably, ‘This is like the crypt of a church. I had
no idea it was here. Where does it come out?’
‘Little Collins Street,’ replied the driver, utterly unable to
decide on a proper reaction. This sheila had taken control of
his horse when the stubborn brute had walked the wagon into a
corner, and was now coolly chatting in a society voice as though
nothing particular had happened. She was obviously a lady
and he did not really feel like chancing his arm by crossing her.