“Goods.”
“Where from?”
A reply came in a breath so low that it was barely audible.
“The Emporium.”
In a flash of intuition, the whole truth was revealed to the woman who stood looking down at the cowering creature before her.
“The Emporium!” she repeated. There was a tragedy in the single word. Her voice grew cold with hate, the hate born of innocence long tortured. “Then you are the one who——”
The accusation was cut short by the girl's shriek.
“I am not! I am not, I tell you.”
For a moment, Mary lost her poise. Her voice rose in a flare of rage.
“You are! You are!”