"What was it?" she cried.

He had tried to get her to stop, to go back. "I think it was a woman … a colored woman." She just kept on driving.

"S-she stepped out in the road! You saw her, Johnny! I-I haven't got a driver's license."

Luckily for both of them, he had kept his head. He told her again to stop and then he got behind the wheel. They did not go back to see about the woman, instead he went to his home and put the car in his vacant garage, his mother hadn't had an auto since the war. There was only a small dent in the fender, but to be sure he got several buckets of water and washed that side of the car very carefully. Then he drove Lauralee home. When they turned in between the brick gateposts at the entrance to the Quigg farm, John Blodgett deliberately scraped the right fender, crumpling it slightly and leaving yellow paint on the bricks. He explained to Lauralee that this was necessary to explain the damage, and that he would pay to have the car repaired.

It turned out that the victim was an aged colored woman with no relatives, and so not too much fuss was ever made about finding the hit-and-run driver. The state police did check on cars that required body work after the date of the accident, but readily accepted the explanation of the damage to Lee Quigg's convertible. And the following week, on the night of Lauralee's graduation from high school, she and John Blodgett eloped to Mississippi and were married.

The marriage had worked out well. Perhaps Lauralee's grandmother had seen that Blodgett was a strong enough man to handle her wayward granddaughter as well as guide Lee Quigg in running the various family enterprises. He had insisted that as his wife, Lauralee should conduct her sexual affairs with more discretion although he was aware that a woman with her insatiable appetites could not remain faithful to any one man.