“Well—under—one condition,” said Florence hesitantly. “If you’ll promise not to do anything daring or dangerous in any way, then I’ll let you stay here.”
“I’ll do my best to keep her straight,” promised Peggy.
“You do have a time with me, don’t you?” laughed Jo Ann. “I’ll promise to be good this time.”
As soon as breakfast was over, Florence started off to market, with the faithful Felipe trailing along behind. At last Peggy and Jo Ann had the house to themselves. They stacked and carried the dishes to the kitchen, and then Jo Ann quickly placed her stack on the table and walked to the door. From there she started across the room in front of the huge fireplace.
“One—two—three,” she counted, pacing the distance to the wall across the room, “four—five.” Then, turning, she measured the distance back again.
“I guess that’s right,” she mumbled to herself.
“What in the world are you doing now?” asked Peggy disgustedly from across the room. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Don’t bother me. Seventeen—eighteen——”
“Josephine Annette Cutrer, are you going to help with these dishes?” insisted Peggy.
There was no response from Jo Ann. By that time she had gone out the door and was pacing the length of the hall.