E. Mrs. 1. “Bother it all!” she swore. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. “My cab with all that luggage would give the whole show away. ” She spoke rather quickly, because she found her father’s question the most awkward she had ever had to answer in her life. ‘Yes, but I do not know why he should wish to do so, and therefore I cannot permit that he interferes.
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