“Ever go to Saratoga?” he inquired.
“I’ll take you to the races—with your mother. Would you like to go?”
She remained silent so long that he became a trifle uneasy.
“With your mother,” he repeated, moving so he could see a little more of her face.
“I don’t think mother would go,” she said.
“Would she let you go?”
“I don’t think so.”
“There’s nothing wrong with racing,” he said, “if you don’t bet money on the horses.”
But Rue knew nothing about sport, and her ignorance as well as the suggested combination of Saratoga, automobile, and horse racing left her silent again.