“It was not my fault that I was late, sir.”
“No? Was the gentleman to blame?”
My face flamed up. I could have slapped him on the cheek. What did he mean by his insinuations?
“You have no right to speak to me like that!”
“When young women in my employment misbehave themselves as you have done I make plain speaking a rule. A man was with you, because one was seen. You can apportion the blame between you.” I could not tell him it was Tom; it might have been bad for him. “None of your airs with me; off you go. Stay! This other young woman heard me talk to you; now you shall hear me talk to her. Is your name Emily Purvis?”
“Yes, sir. It’s the first time—I never meant it—it wasn’t my fault.”
Emily broke into stammering speech; he cut her short.
“Don’t you trouble yourself to talk; I’ll do all the talking that’s required. You were out after hours with Miss Blyth. I’m not going to ask any questions, and I’ll listen to no explanations; young women who scour the streets at midnight are not the sort I like. We are judged by the company we keep. You were Mary Blyth’s companion last night; you’ll be her companion again. With her, you’ll draw what is due to you; with her, you’ll clear yourself off these premises inside half an hour. Now, stop it!”
Emily began crying.
“Oh, Mr. Slaughter, I’ve done nothing! it isn’t fair! I’ve nowhere to go to!”