He saw Pansy struggling vainly to get away from a short, thick-set man with a red face and fishy eyes, who held her by one bare arm.
Le Breton was not long in covering the distance that lay between himself and the couple. His coming made Pansy's persecutor let go quickly, and make off. The girl had been struggling with all her might to escape from his coarse, hot grip. And she was too intent on getting out of an undesirable situation even to notice that someone's approach was responsible for her sudden freedom.
The force of her struggles sent her staggering backwards, right on Le Breton. His arm went round her. He held her pressed against him, his hand on her heart.
It seemed to Pansy, she had gotten out of the frying-pan into the fire.
Quivering with indignation she looked up. Then she laughed in a tremulous manner.
"Oh, it's you, is it? I wondered who else was on my trail."
"You ought not to be out at night alone," he said severely. "A beautiful girl is a temptation to any man."
"I'm no temptation. It's my money. He likes women with red hair."
Le Breton scanned Pansy more closely.
He had noticed she was dressed in white, but with her unexpectedly in his arms he had not troubled to look further.