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She’d had her car checked that day at the gas station, being worried about driving alone at night.” Madge gasped, and tried to speak, and could not.
If Madge did scream, there would be John Tabor killed instead, and Bob could pass the car on his motorcycle and he could force her off the road and, there was no light except the small straight ribbon of stars overhead and the slanting changed patch of road and tree trunks which was lighted by the motorcycle’s headlight.
The crouched figure moved with a sudden, rolling, clumsy like walk toward the pointed small figure that Bob from the gas station thought was a girl. Mrs. Tabor had stopped at the gas station as Madge had done to check her car for the night drive. Then her body slowed the car, and took it calmly into Colchester, and even stopped at the town’s one red traffic light, and parked it with shaking accuracy by the railroad station where her husband would presently move.
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