The woman turned her cruel, bloodshot eyes slowly toward Madge. She was one of the strongest and most brutal characters in the slums of New York, and few dared to oppose her. She was even a terror to the policemen in the neighborhood.
“Git out!” she said briefly.
Her arm descended. It did not strike the child. Quick as a flash, Madge Morton had flung herself between the woman and the child. For a moment the blow almost stunned the girl. The East Side crowd closed in on the girl and the woman. If there was going to be a fight, the spectators did not intend to miss it. Eleanor was numb with fear and sympathy. She did not know whether to be more frightened for Madge than sorry for the child.
The woman’s face was mottled and crimson with anger. Madge’s face was very white. She held her head high and looked her enemy full in the face.
“Git out of this and stop your interferin’!” shouted the virago. “This here child belongs to me and I’ll do what I like with her. If you are one of them social settlers coming around into poor people’s places and meddlin’ with their business, you’d better git back where you belong or I’ll social-settle you.”
At this moment a thin, hot hand caught hold of Madge’s and pulled it gently. Madge gazed down into a little face, whose expression she never forgot. It was whiter than it had been before. The scarlet color had gone out of the cheeks and the big, black eyes burned brighter. But there was not the slightest trace of fear in the look. Instead, the child’s lips were curved into an elf-like smile.
“Don’t stay here, lady, please,” she begged. “The ogress will be horrid to you. She can’t hurt me. You see, I am an enchanted Princess.”
An instant later the child received a savage blow from the woman’s hard hand full in the face without shrinking. It was Madge who winced. Tears rose to her eyes. She put her arms about the child and tried to shelter her.
“Don’t be calling me no names, Tania,” the woman cried, dragging at the child’s thin skirts. “Jest you come along home with me and you’ll git what is comin’ to you, you good-for-nothin’ little imp.”
“Is she your mother?” asked Madge doubtfully, gazing at the brutal woman and the strange child.