Azalea gasped. So her premonition had been a true one after all! Had she not returned, Merritt would have easily overcome Janet and taken the baby off with him. She knew they would not harm Fleurette,—indeed, would be most careful of her. Unless, perhaps, they should give her soothing-sirup again. Well they'd get no chance, for Azalea was determined the baby should not be taken from her, and she most certainly was not going herself.
"You know what it will mean to you," Merritt threatened; "if I so advise Bixby, he'll throw you over. How'd you like to lose your job now that you've just begun to make good?"
"That's nothing to do with it," Azalea said, trying to speak calmly and not show how frightened she was.
But Merritt discerned it.
"All right," he said, "sorry you won't listen to reason,—but since you won't,—guess I'll have to use force."
He took hold of Fleurette's little arm, to lift her from Azalea's lap, and the touch roused the girl's wrath to boiling point.
"Don't you dare!" she cried, holding the baby tightly. "Leave,—leave at once! or I'll call for help!"
She rose, as if to make good her threat, though she knew there was no help within call.
Merritt knew it too, and he laughed at her.
"Stop this nonsense, now," he commanded roughly. "I'm going to accomplish what I came here for, so you may as well take it quietly. I can take the child without a whimper from her,—and you know it! So, why not be sensible and come along too, and look out for her yourself?"