of discontent between his dark brows as he watched Maude come downstairs with Eddie and Dot. Why did Maude do such things? he wondered. What amusement could she derive from entertaining that little dumbbell? And if the girl wasn't bad enough, there was this Collins with the manners of a ditch-digger.
"Your friend can sit with Ted," said Maude as they reached the car. "I have so much to tell you, Dottie."
Wordlessly, Eddie climbed into the seat beside the wheel. Ted sat expressionless and silent, waiting for the girls to get seated in the rear.
"Wanna go right home?" he asked Maude.
"I have to," she answered. "I may get a long-distance call from mother. She's in Atlantic City," Maude explained to Dot. "Then Sue Cudahy is going to drop in for a minute. You know Sue, don't you, Dottie?"
"Oh, sure. She's the girl who couldn't graduate, ain't she? She had to get her working papers."
"Yes," Maude answered, sudden compassion oozing into her voice. "Poor Sue. I give her all my cast-off clothes. She's coming in for some I promised her tonight. Don't let on you know about it. She's sensitive."
"Oh, I wouldn't," Dot promised.
The car started, and for a moment no word passed between the occupants. Motoring was a rare treat for Dot. She loved the motion of the machine, the wind in her face, the feeling of luxurious privacy. She felt sure that if ever she owned a car she would ride throughout the night. Not alone, of course. Somebody would have to be with her; so she would take Eddie. Maybe sometime they would ride all the way to California. Dot had heard of people doing that.
"She's a telephone operator now," said Maude.
"Oh, yes—Sue." Dot got in step with Maude again.
"She's got a sweetheart who is simply impossible." The
