Druce did not wait for the rest of the sentence. With a muttered oath he rushed outside and paid the waiting chauffeur. "Now, what do you want?" he demanded when he returned. Elsie looked at him piteously. "Martin," she said, "I can't stay in that place any longer." "Say, don't my aunt treat you all right?" The girl burst out sobbing. "She isn't your aunt, Martin. She told me so herself. And that flat--" "Well, what about it?" "I--I can't tell you. I can't say it. I never knew until tonight." Elsie clutched Druce's arm pleadingly. "Martin," she said, "a man came into my room." Druce saw that the time had come for him to lay his cards on the table. He folded his arms and looked at the girl. "Well?" he demanded coolly. "He had been drinking and--he took hold of me." There was a long pause. Druce gazed at the girl satirically. She quailed with sinking heart under that look. She began sobbing again. "Don't look at me like that, Martin," she wailed. "Don't--or I shall go mad. I left home to marry you." "Well, I married you, didn't I?" Druce sneered. Elsie attempted to control her voice. "That woman you call your aunt laughed at me when I told her I was your wife. She said I was a country fool." "Damn her," muttered Druce. "I'll settle with her." The girl grasped Druce frantically. "Tell me she lied," she cried, "or I'll go crazy. Tell me she lied." "Yes, she lied," answered Druce glibly. "See here, kid, it's about time you began helping to support the family." Elsie dried her tears. "I'm--I'm ready," she said. "I've practiced my songs--" "O, the songs," said Druce. "That isn't all." "What do you mean, Martin?" "Why--don't be so stand-offish. When a man offers to buy you a bottle of wine, let him." "Martin!" Druce stopped her sharply. "Now don't begin that Millville Sunday school stuff," he said. "This is business." "Is it?" Elsie spoke in a whisper. "Sure. When a man's got a wad of bills and he's willing to buy, string him along!" "But I'm your wife, Martin." Elsie was dead white and calm. "Well, don't let that worry you. Go as far as you like--or as far as he likes." The girl stood motionless, looking straight before her. "Is--is that what you brought me here for?" she asked with forced calmness. "Sure. Why do you suppose I dressed you up like that? Your stock in trade is your good looks. Sell it." The girl drew herself up rigidly. "I won't do it," she said. She started toward the door. "You will!" grated Druce, following her. "Never," she answered. "I'll die first. Good-by!" The door closed after her. Anson had returned to the room and had witnessed the scene. "Well," he sneered, "there goes the first move in your plan. You've lost that one." "You think so?" Druce sneered in return. "Well, don't lose any sleep worrying about that one. She ain't got a dime. She'll be back." CHAPTER XVIII LOST IN THE LEVEE