She would teach that refractory Material a lesson.
It was a bright cloudless day, the air cold and penetrating. Connie said
it was just the day for her to collect her thought, and she could do it
best of all in the car. So if they would excuse her,--and they did, of
course. Just as she was getting into the car she said that if she had a
very exceptionally nice time, she might not come back until after dinner.
They were not to worry. She knew the car, she was sure of herself, she
would come home when she got ready.
So off she went, taking a naughty satisfaction in the good trick she was
playing on that poor boy killing himself to get back for dinner with her.
An hour in the open banished her pettishness, and she drove rapidly along
the narrow, twisting, unfamiliar road, finding a wild pleasure in her
reckless speed. She loved this, she loved it, she loved it. She clapped
on a little more gas to show how very dearly she did love it.
After a long time, she found herself far out in a long stretch of gray
prairie where no houses broke the bare line of the plains for many miles.
It had grown bitterly cold, too, and a sudden daub of gray splashed
rapidly across the whole bright sky. Connie drew a rug about her and
laughed at the wind that cut her face.
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