“Thank you for saving it,” she told Penny gratefully. “I don’t know what I should have done if I’d lost that letter. It means everything to me.”
Penny stared at the envelope a trifle curiously but she was too well bred to ask personal questions. Before she could make any response store officials hurried up to take charge of the situation. The girl’s name was Rosanna Winters, Penny learned, by listening. She lived at a rooming house on Sixty-fifth Street, not a great distance from Penny’s own home.
Rosanna firmly turned down the suggestion of store officials that she be sent to a nearby hospital for first-aid treatment.
“It isn’t necessary. I merely twisted my ankle. I’ll soon be able to walk on it.”
“Let me take you home,” Penny offered. “My roadster is parked just outside the store. We live close to each other.”
The girl hesitated, then smiled as she said: “That’s very kind of you, I’m sure. You don’t really mind?”
“Of course not. Here, let me help you downstairs.”
“Not by way of the escalator,” Rosanna said hastily. “Hereafter I’ll ride on the elevator. It’s safer.”
Although the store’s gong had announced the closing hour some minutes previously, shoppers were slow to leave the building. As the girls returned to the street floor they were embarrassed to find themselves the target for many curious stares. Penny readily was recognized as the girl who had observed the theft of the ring.
“What became of that man who knocked me down?” Rosanna questioned. “I suppose he escaped.”