“It makes sense,” Greta said grudgingly, “in a way. But maybe she had work shoes and they wore out and she threw them away.”
“Maybe,” Peggy said, “but that doesn’t account for the kind of shoes she did have. For instance, there were high riding boots and low jodhpur boots in that closet. Now, I have a horse at home in Wisconsin, and I know something about riding equipment, and those boots were handmade and must have cost a fortune. Where would an orphan salesgirl get boots like that? And why would she want them in the city? Not only that, but there were ski boots and golf shoes, too, and I have the same questions about those. I suppose it all sounds very nosy and suspicious of me, but I couldn’t help thinking about it and what it means.”
“What it means,” Greta said, “is that you’re probably right. From what you say, I’m sure that Paula wasn’t telling the truth about herself. But what can we do about it, and why should we try to do anything? It’s really none of our business, is it?”
“That’s just the problem that’s been worrying me,” Peggy confessed. “I keep asking myself whether it’s any of our business who Paula is and what she’s hiding. I think I’ve finally decided that it is.”
“In what way?” Amy asked. “Just because we’ve agreed to help her with a little money doesn’t mean we own any part of her, does it? I think we ought to leave her alone!”
“Oh, Amy, you can’t think I meant it like that!” Peggy said. “Of course the loan doesn’t give us any right to go poking into her affairs! But the fact that we’re her friends does give us a right. We didn’t get curious about her health, for fear of offending her, and as a result she collapsed from hunger. Now if she’s in some other kind of trouble, and we don’t do something to help, we may regret that just as much.”
“That does make sense,” Amy admitted. “It’s just that I hate to go behind her back....”
“Why go behind her back?” Greta asked. “Why not just come right out and ask her what’s wrong? Even mention the shoes and boots and things, so that she’ll know why we’re suspicious of what she told you.”
“She won’t admit anything’s wrong,” Peggy said. “I tried to ask her at lunch when I went out with her today, but she wouldn’t even talk to me about it. Every time I seemed to be coming close to whatever’s bothering her, she just changed the subject.”
“Well, then, what do you think we-all can do about it?” Amy asked. “If she doesn’t want to tell us her troubles, there’s no way that we can force her to do it. I still think we ought to leave her alone.”