"What do you mean by this?" she exclaimed sternly. "What do you wish?"
The man turned and faced her. "I've come on important business with this girl. My name is Rufus Carder—you may have heard of it. Geraldine Melody belongs to me. Her father gave her to me." He turned back quickly to the girl, for Mrs. Barry's face warned him that his time was short.
"You may have gone away against your will, Gerrie," he said. "It ain't too late to save your father. Come back with me now and there won't be a word said. Refuse to come, and to-morrow all his pals shall know what he was."
"Geraldine Melody belongs to me. Her Father gave her to me"
Geraldine straightened her slight body. Terror was in every line of her delicate face, but Mrs. Barry saw her control it. The details of the stories she had heard came back to her vividly. She realized the suffering and the fate from which her boy had delivered the captive. Geraldine was exquisite to look at now as she faced her jailer. That ethereal quality which was hers gave her spirituelle face a wonderful appeal.
"Ben was right," thought Mrs. Barry with a thrill of pride. "She is a thoroughbred."