"Show the woman to the door, Wilkins, and to the back stairs," Anthony ordered, restraining himself with a considerable effort. "Be sure she doesn't go near the elevators. Quick!" David spoke again, in French and in a strange, low, forlorn wail. The girl, as if at an eternal parting, thrust out the expressive hands once more and gurgled hysterical Gallic snatches; and then Wilkins had laid a hand on her shoulder, turned her about, and she was gone. Johnson Boller looked after them and at his old friend. "Aren't you going to send the youngster after her?" he asked with the superior air of a man who has proved his case beyond a doubt. "Quite possibly," Anthony said, smiling a dangerous little smile. "But I mean to have a chat with David first." Johnson Boller gazed at David for a moment and smiled himself, almost happily. Unless indications were highly deceptive, Anthony, with his precious reputation all mussed up by the pretty little French girl, was mad enough to beat up David. But Johnson Boller had no idea of sitting around and watching it, later to waste days in a police court for David's wretched sake. Hence he thumped out of David's room and back to his own. Alone with his find, Anthony said not a word for a full minute, nor did David. The boy, hunched on the edge of his bed, had passed the capability of motion and even of thought; he merely stared at Anthony with dazed, thunder-struck eyes that were very far from being intelligent. "David," Anthony said savagely, "however slightly unusual the circumstances may have been, I brought you to this apartment for your own good." "Um," David said numbly. "And last night I laid down for you the rule that you were to have no women here." David said nothing at all. "Yet even before we've dressed this morning, you manage to worm an infernal woman in here and--what the devil do you mean by it, anyway, you infernal little whelp?" Anthony cried, as his temper snapped. "Don't sit there and shiver! Answer me!" Still David said nothing. "Answer or I'll shake some wits into you!" Anthony cried. And by way of doing this he seized David's thick brown hair and gave a first, threatening shake. And having shaken--Anthony Fry, the chilly and self-contained, emitted one rattling, half-shrieking gasp and reeled backward! CHAPTER VI Johnson Boller Proposes The whole head of brown hair had come free in his hand, and from David's cranium, billow upon billow of red-gold glory floated down about the bathrobed shoulders. David, in fine, with no warning at all, had turned into a decidedly pretty young woman! Through Anthony's astounded brain, impressions pursued one another so rapidly, those first few seconds, that the room danced crazily. There were two or three Davids and oceans of reddish-gold hair; there were several pairs of somber, deep-blue eyes as well, whirling around and mocking him, regarding his quite steadily and all packed with new significance.