The car had turned into the boulevard and headed out of town. When the girls walked back to the broad highway it was out of sight. It was being driven with small regard for the speed laws.
“I guess you are right,” reflected Amy. “I never saw that car before. It is a French car. But the woman’s face——”
“There was enough of that to remember,” declared Jessie, quite spitefully.
“I didn’t mean the fat woman’s face,” giggled Amy. “I mean that the other woman looked familiar. Maybe I have seen her picture somewhere.”
“If my face was like hers I’d never have it photographed,” snapped Jessie.
“How vinegarish,” said Amy. “Well, it was funny.”
“You do find humor in the strangest things,” returned her chum. “I guess that poor girl didn’t think it was funny.”
“Of course, they had some right to her,” Amy declared.
“How do you know they did? They did not act so,” returned the more thoughtful Jessie. “If they had really the right to make the poor girl go with them, they would not have acted in such haste nor answered me the way they did.”
“Well, of course, it wasn’t any of our business either to ask questions or to interfere,” Amy declared.