“Is that so dangerous?” Miss Mabee arched her brows.
“Yes, sometimes I’m afraid it is,” Florence replied soberly. “I know of one case where it cost a poor woman four hundred dollars.”
“How could it?” came in a tone of surprise.
“She had the money. They told her to leave it with them for luck. The luck was all wrong. They vanished.”
“But that is an extreme case.”
“Yes,” Florence replied slowly, “it is extreme. And yet, in days like these, people, who might in happier days be harmless, turn wolf and prey upon the innocent. At least, that’s what Frances Ward says. And she usually knows. She says it is the duty of those who are strong to battle against the wolves.”
“And so you, my beautiful strong one, are battling the wolves? Good for you!” Marie Mabee gave her sturdy arm an affectionate squeeze. “That’s quite all right. Only,” she laughed, “please let me know when the wolves start coming up the stairs.”
“I—I’ll try,” Florence replied in a changed tone.
“And now,” said Marie Mabee, “how about a nice cup of steaming chocolate and some of those rare cakes that just came from that little bakery around the corner?”
“Grand!” Florence exclaimed. “Here is one person who can always eat and never regret.”