"He's got it," he thought, fiercely; "but why in hell did she send for me?--and a telegram!--to the _house_! She's mad." He was panting with anger as he pressed the button at Lily's door; "I'll tell her I'll never see her again, long as I live!" Furious words were on the tip of his tongue; then she opened the door, and he was dumb. "Oh, Mr. Curtis--don't--don't let them take Jacky! Oh, Mr. Curtis!" She flung herself upon him, sobbing frantically. "Don't let them--I'll kill them if they touch Jacky! Oh, my soul and body! He'll die if they take him--I won't let them take him--" She was shaking and stammering and gasping. "I won't have him touched.... You got to stop them--" "Lily, _don't_! What's the matter?" "This woman downstairs 's about crazy, because she has three children. I hope they all catch it and die and go to hell! She's shut up there with 'em in her flat. She won't put her nose outside the door! She come up here this morning, and saw Jacky, and she said it was scarlet fever. Seems she knew what it was, 'cause she had a boy die of it--glad he did! And she sent--the slut!--a complaint to the Board of Health--and the doctor, he come this afternoon, and said it was! And he said he was going to take Jacky _to-night_!" Her voice made him cringe; her yellow tigress eyes blazed at him; he had known that Lily, for all her good humor, had occasional sharp gusts of temper, little squalls that raced over summer seas of kindliness! But he had never seen this Lily: A ferocious, raucous Lily, madly maternal! A Lily of the pavements.... "An' I said he wasn't going to do no such thing! An' I said I'd stop it: I said I'd take the law to him; I said I'd get Jacky's father: I--" "Good God! Lily--" "Oh, what do I care about _you_? I ain't goin' to kill Jacky to protect _you_! You got to stop them taking him!" She clutched his arm and shook it: "I never asked nothing of you, yet. I ask it now, and you'll _do_ it, or I'll tell everybody in town that he's yours--" Her menacing voice broke and failed, but her lips kept moving; those kind, efficient hands of hers, clutching at him, were the claws of a mother beast. Maurice took her arm and guided her into the little parlor, where a row of hyacinths on the window sill made the air overpoweringly sweet; he sat down beside her on the sofa. "Get steady, Lily, and tell me: I'll see what can be done. But there's to be no _father_ business about it, you understand? I'm just a 'friend.'"