Dunton was talking earnestly to the girl. He seemed to be telling her some sort of story, and he was using every fascination of which he was capable. On the stage, Dunton usually played heavies and villains; in everyday life Dunton was something of a comedian. Now he was able to bring fleeting smiles and nervous laughter to the lips of his companion.
A waiter brought them an addition to their order. Dunton told a funny story that seemed to amuse and startle the girl, for she looked at him reprovingly, even while she laughed.
“But they are not drinking!” muttered Frank, with no small satisfaction.
His own order was filled after a time, and he fell to eating. He had begun to wonder if he had not made a mistake in thinking the girl in any serious danger. Perhaps Dunton had not known the real character of the restaurant when he took her in there. Still, Frank was sorry she had been brought into a place where such people could sit near her and she could hear the sounds and see hints of the false pleasures which lure so many girls to waywardness.
For some little time Merry did not pay much attention to what was taking place behind the screen. At length, he observed that Dunton was leaning over the narrow table and talking in a low tone to the girl, his eyes looking into hers. The actor had secured one of her hands. As she listened, the color in her cheeks came and went. She seemed confused and abashed, yet fascinated.
Now, Frank knew she was in real danger. He thrilled all over, and half started from his seat, but dropped back, muttering:
“Not yet!”
A waiter came with two bottles, buried to their necks in cracked ice. He stopped at their table and prepared to open the bottles.
Frank felt that the time for action was close at hand.
One bottle was opened and glasses were filled.