“Yes—but the English! They are so pure,” said Madame.
“You know,” said Louis, “somebody must have put them up to it—”
“Perhaps,” said Madame, “somebody on account of Allaye.”
Alvina went white.
“Yes,” said Geoffrey. “White Slave Traffic! Mr. May said it.”
Madame slowly nodded.
“Mr. May!” she said. “Mr. May! It is he. He knows all about morals—and immorals. Yes, I know. Yes—yes—yes! He suspects all our immoral doings, mes braves.”
“But there aren’t any, except mine,” cried Alvina, pale to the lips.
“You! You! There you are!” Madame smiled archly, and rather mockingly.
“What are we to do?” said Max, pale on the cheekbones.