"Oh, but that would take you out of your way," remonstrated Mrs. Cane as unconvincingly as possible.
"But, my dear! What is a block or two to an imported motor?" Mrs. Potter waved her fat hand deprecatingly. "Nothing; abs'lutely nothing! And François controls that sixty horsepower motor as if it were a Shetland pony. He's wonderful!"
And thus it happened that Mrs. Cane and Mrs. Rice, and one or two others who lived in the same neighborhood were handed into Mrs. Potter's purring limousine by the much-liveried François, and rolled off majestically amid the ten-inch upholstery.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE AUCTIONEER
"I can't understand how any one would DARE to use my name in such an unwarranted way," murmured Mrs. Cane as the limousine got under way.
"Oh, my dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Potter. "They dare do anything these days. If they have stopped at merely using your name, you are to be congratulated. They have probably forged your signature and exhibited your photograph all over town."
The idea was very distasteful to Mrs. Cane. "I should hate to think of those awful men—they were men, weren't they?"
"I didn't see them myself," replied Mrs. Potter, "but it seems to me that Celeste said they were boys."