Mechanically Marjorie’s fingers closed over the slip of paper extended to her; then she drew her slender, graceful figure erect.
“I am a girl, alone in the world,” she said clearly. “I have had to take your insults today, but thank God, I can refuse to take your money.”
The torn check fell in a tiny shower at the Admiral’s feet as the hall door banged to behind her vanishing figure.
The seconds had slipped into minutes before the Admiral moved; then he dropped into his desk chair.
“What does she see in Chichester?” he muttered. “What is there about that scoundrel which attracts women? Where’s that photograph?”
But his search was unavailing; the photograph had disappeared.
CHAPTER III
QUESTIONS AND QUERIES
Marjorie Langdon contemplated her small wardrobe as it lay spread out before her on the bed, and then gazed at the passbook open in her hand. She saw the slender balance remaining to her credit at the bank through diminishing glasses, and despair tugged at her heart-strings.
“The way of the bread-winner is hard,” she paraphrased bitterly. “I don’t wonder there are so many transgressors in the world. Bless my soul, Minerva, what do you want?”
The colored woman, who had entered the bedroom unnoticed a second before, actually jumped at the sharpness of Marjorie’s usually tranquil voice.