"Damn your private affairs," said Jesse, quietly, but with a note of meaningfulness in his tone that caused Judd to sit up and take immediate notice. "I am no more interested in your private affairs than I am in the transactions of the Congo Missionary Society. But I repeat that your—er—that Mrs. Treharne's daughter doesn't belong under that Riverside Drive roof. Do you understand me?"
"No," said Judd, "I don't," nor did he. But he no longer chuckled.
"I think you've told me several times," Jesse went on calmly, "that the young woman flaunts you?"
Judd made some inarticulate reply which Jesse took for an affirmative.
"That being the case," inquired Jesse, "why do you keep her around the place?"
"What's your idea—that I should turn her into the street?" asked Judd, gradually getting a hold on Jesse's thread.
"Oh, she wouldn't be in the street very long," said Jesse with significant emphasis. "But, since on your own say-so she scarcely even nods to you, and you are paying the freight, what's the answer? Doesn't she know that she's dependent upon you?"
"How the devil could she help knowing it?" broke out Judd impatiently. "She has eyes and what belongs to her by way of brains, I suppose."
"Well," said Jesse, "if she cuts in on your—your game, and is such a nuisance to you, why don't you exert your authority—the authority of the provider—and——" He hesitated.
"And what?" inquired Judd, proddingly.