"A letter of nothing here! But promise her your friends will give much."
"Would she mail a letter?"
"Have you stamps? No? She is so ignorant that is an obstacle. And the post is distant and she dare not go far. But sometimes the baker sends a little boy, and if you had money to give she might get a note to him to carry—though, maybe, she burns the note and keeps the money," the Viennese ended pessimistically.
"But I must get help at once," Arlee iterated passionately. Before——"
"Before?" the other repeated curiously, "He makes love to you—h'm?"
"He—is beginning."
"Only beginning?"
"Only—beginning." Arlee felt the girl's strange, hard scrutiny through the dark. Then she heard her draw a quick breath as if her eyes on Arlee's flower-like face had convinced her of something against all her sorry little reason.
"Well, that is good then," she said. "Try to keep him off. What does he promise you?"
"Promise me? He does not promise anything."