"You needn't fear for me," she said proudly. "He dare not injure me. I am not afraid of him!"
Very unwillingly, Greg gave in.
Their pursuers were upon them. The policeman, de Socotra, Abanez and the fourth man leaped from the second cab and ran up. The policeman laid a heavy hand on Greg's shoulder and drew him to the pavement. De Socotra flung open the door of the flivver. Within twenty seconds it seemed as if a crowd of hundreds had gathered.
"My poor, poor child!" cried de Socotra in a heart-breaking voice. "How could you act so!"
Amy made no reply.
"Don't you know me?"
"I know you," she said quietly.
He drew her gently out of the cab. "Come home with me, dear," he murmured, but not so softly but that the crowd could hear and be impressed. "You'll be all right in the morning. Mamma is waiting for you."
Amy quietly submitted. Greg was boiling inwardly, but he loyally obeyed her command to say nothing.
De Socotra drew Amy's arm tenderly under his own and faced the policeman and the crowd. "She is not herself," he said in a deprecating, appealing voice. "It is a nervous break-down. See how she ran out without hat or coat in such weather. She didn't know what she was doing."