"Of course I wasn't thinking of Diana's beauty.
I was merely thinking of her in the role of a fair huntress."
"Goodness, now she is insulting us!" cried Betty, turning upon her friend
with a melodramatic frown. "Do you mean to imply that one or all of us are
huntresses?"
"Not of men," said Mollie scathingly. "That shows a guilty conscience,
Betty. I'm surprised at you."
"O-oh! Squelched!" said Betty meekly. "May I ask," she added very humbly,
"just what you did mean?"
"I simply meant," explained Mollie patiently, "that we were after two
men--"
"Oh!" cried Amy, turning upon her in horror. "And you just told Betty you
didn't mean that!"
"I didn't," cried the badgered Mollie in desperation, then turned away in
disgust. "There's no use trying to tell you anything," she said.
"Go ahead, Mollie dear," urged Betty.
"I meant," Mollie continued slightly, but only slightly, mollified, "that
we were hunting two men--Mrs. Sanderson's Willie and the motorcyclist who
ran her down. And we haven't any more real chance of finding them than--"
"A celluloid dog has chasing an asbestos cat in--" began Grace.
"That will do," cried Betty primly, though her eyes danced. "After this,
you will kindly answer when you are spoken to, Miss Ford, and at no other
time."
"Oh, is that so?" mocked Grace. "Well, I'll just tell you, Miss Nelson,
that although I am extremely fond of you--mistaken as that may be--I will
take no dictation from you or any one else.
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