Wolf in lamb’s clothing?
Everywhere that Mary went, Violet was sure to go.
If only their mothers weren’t such friends, thought Mary. If only Violet wasn’t perceived to be such a wholesome influence. If only it wasn’t always: “Oh Mary, why don’t you ask Violet along? Such a sweet, steady girl!”
Violet certainly looked as if butter wouldn’t melt, in her little white gloves and ruffled lace collar. Mary knew her own street cred would take some serious damage if she were seen within ten yards of that straw bonnet. (Geez- who actually wore those?) And there was never any shaking her off,“but still she lingered near, and waited patiently about, till Mary did appear...”
Worse, did she detect a hint of a most unwholesome blackmail in Violet’s lisped “does your Mum know you’re off to the milk bar after class? Golly, wouldn’t it be absolutely awful if she was to find out?”