“After all,” suggested Newman, after a silence, “she may be in trouble about something else.”
“If it is something else, then it is something worse,” said Mrs. Tristram, with rich decision.
Newman was silent a while, and seemed lost in meditation. “Is it possible,” he asked at last, “that they do that sort of thing over here? that helpless women are bullied into marrying men they hate?”
“Helpless women, all over the world, have a hard time of it,” said Mrs. Tristram. “There is plenty of bullying everywhere.”
“A great deal of that kind of thing goes on in New York,” said Tristram. “Girls are bullied or coaxed or bribed, or all three together, into marrying nasty fellows. There is no end of that always going on in the Fifth Avenue, and other bad things besides. The Mysteries of the Fifth Avenue! Someone ought to show them up.”
“I don’t believe it!” said Newman, very gravely. “I don’t believe that, in America, girls are ever subjected to compulsion. I don’t believe there have been a dozen cases of it since the country began.”
“Listen to the voice of the spread eagle!” cried Tristram.
“The spread eagle ought to use his wings,” said Mrs. Tristram. “Fly to the rescue of Madame de Cintré!”
“To her rescue?”
“Pounce down, seize her in your talons, and carry her off. Marry her yourself.”