Aloud she merely said: “Some friends of mine, Ila. Don’t disturb yourself, dear; you will find them very agreeable.”
It was fully a minute before Marion could control her anger sufficiently to rise and confront her hostess with any degree of calmness, and even when she did, her cheeks glowed like carnations, and her wide, gray eyes had grown black as midnight.
She had come to this woman’s home on an errand of sympathy, and now, at midnight, as she was sitting in almost bed-room attire, she was suddenly forced to receive the company of two men whom it was plainly to be seen were both under the influence of liquor.
“Mademoiselle, this is outrageous!” were her first indignant words. “How could you allow them to come in here now. Have you no shame, no atom of decency about you?”
The base woman almost screamed with laughter, as the young girl spoke. She was fairly gloating over her discomfiture, and the two men joined heartily in her merriment.
“Don’t be frightened, birdie!” said one of the men familiarly, as they both stepped inside and closed the door behind them. “We won’t hurt such a pretty creature as you are. No, indeed, we’ve only dropped in to admire your beauty.”
“Yes, and to help eat Carlotta’s welsh rarebit,” said the other, going straight to the woman and kissing her. “So glad you invited us, old girl, make as big a one as you can, for we are both hungry and thirsty.”
“I’m hungry for a bite of those red lips,” said the other fellow, lurching over and putting his hand on Marion’s bare shoulder.
In an instant the young girl sprang back and put the width of the room between them.
“If you dare to touch me I will kill you,” she cried sharply, at the same time snatching a small ivory handled revolver from Carlotta’s dressing table.