Maggy reeled toward her. Alexandra caught her in her arms.
"Darling, what is it?" she cried in alarm.
Maggy clung to her like a terrified child.
"Lexie," she gasped, "am I too late? Am I too late? You haven't—Oh, my God! Lexie, it isn't worth it. Men—"
And then she fainted. Alexandra got her on to the bed, loosened her things, and called for Mrs. Bell. Together they managed to get a little brandy between her lips. The landlady dabbed her face with a wet towel; Alexandra held smelling salts to her nose, and presently she drew the reluctant breath of returning consciousness.
"Please go now," Alexandra requested Mrs. Bell. "I'll look after her. She shall stay with me to-night."
Mrs. Bell protested that she wanted to stop. Her penchant for any form of illness enchained her. She argued that she might be needed, and only reluctantly left the room when Maggy opened her eyes and murmured a request to be alone with her friend. She lay with her face against Alexandra's shoulder, and then began to cry, weakly but uncontrollably.
"Lexie, I've been through Hell since I left you," she sobbed. "Suddenly I remembered you and rushed to the theater and then on here. You mustn't! Promise me you won't!"
"Never mind me, dear. Something has upset you. Won't you tell me? I shall understand better then."
"Fred's left me," said Maggy in a cracked voice. "He's married! ... Never trust a man, Lexie! Never trust a man! Keep straight if you starve for it. Promise me you won't go off like I did. I've come to make you promise."