She paused a moment and rubbed her palms together triumphantly, as if she had long anticipated this moment.
"When I was there, the' wasn't no hotel; the' wasn't nothin' but a junction an' ... hell itself. 'Twasn't a place with much noise about it, not so many killin's as some places maybe, but 'twas bad, low down.
"The' was a place there ... Charley Ling's.... 'Twas a Chinese place, with white women. I was one of 'em."
Ann gasped slightly and drew back, and Nora laughed.
"I thought that'd hurt," she mocked. "I thought you couldn't stand it!
"Charley's was a fine place. Sheep herders come there an' Mexicans an' sometimes somebody of darker color. We wasn't particular, see? We wasn't particular, I guess not! Men was white or black or red or yellow or brown, but their money was all one color....
"The' was dope an' booze an' ... hell.... Charley's was a reg'lar boil on th' face of God's earth, that's what it was.... He—Bruce Bayard—got me out of there."
The girl breathed hard and swiftly. Her upper lip was drawn back and her white teeth gleamed in the semi-darkness as she sat forward in her chair, flushed, her accusing face thrust forward toward the bewildered, horrified Ann Lytton.
"He got me there, so you know what I was, what I am. He brung me here, got me this job, has kept me here ever since,"—with a suggestion of faltering purpose in her voice. "It's been him ever since; just him. I'll say that for myself. I've been on th' level with Bruce an' ain't had nothin' to do with others.
"You see he's mine!"—her voice, which had dropped to a monotone, rose bitingly again. "He's mine; he's all I got. If 'twasn't for him, I wouldn't be here. If he quits me, I'll go back to that other. I don't want to go back; so long as he sticks by me I won't go back. If I leave, it'll be because I'm drove back....