Carol knew of course that Prince could
move into the city, buy a fine home, join good clubs, dress like common
men and be thoroughly respectable. But to Carol he would always be a
brown streak of perfect horsemanship. Whatever could that awful Connie
be thinking of?
The days passed sweetly and restfully on the Bijou lawn, but one day,
most unaccountably to Connie, Prince had an appointment with his business
partner down at Brush. He would ride Ruby down and be back in time for
dinner at night if it killed him. Connie was cross about that. She
thought he should have asked her to drive him down in the car but since
he did not she couldn't very well offer her services. What did he
suppose she was hanging around that ugly little dead burg for? Take out
the literary material, Fort Morgan had nothing for Connie. And since the
literary material saw fit to absent itself, it was so many hours gone for
nothing.
After he had gone, Connie decided to play a good trick on him. He would
kill himself to get back to dinner with her, would he? Let him. He
could eat it with David and Carol, and the little Julia he so adored.
Connie would take a long drive in the car all by herself, and would not
be home until bedtime.
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