“You were ill?”
“Oh, no, ma’am,” Nancy hastened to say. “I was not ill at all. Only I was—was lonely—and—and sorry—and——”
“Not altogether clear, Nancy,” said the Madame; but her voice was lower and softer. “Tell me why you were crying in the hall?”
But now Nancy had begun to get a grip upon herself. She realized the position she was in. If she obeyed Madame Schakael’s order she must “tell on” the girls then holding their orgie in Number 30.
“Do you hear me, Nancy?” asked Madame Schakael, firmly.
“Yes, Madame,” whispered the girl.
“Can’t you answer me?”
“No—no, Madame.”
“Why not?”
Nancy was silent for fully a minute, the Madame waiting without a sign of irritation.