Bunny heard that question—more dangerous than any bomb ever made by a Devil’s Deputy! He groped in his bewildered mind for something to say—“Miss Menzies is a Socialist, like me”—anything of that playful sort; but before he could get his tongue to move, Rachel had answered, swift and deadly, “I think it’s the most poisonous thing I ever saw on the screen.”
There was no mistaking that for shyness, or anything else. And Viola Tracy stared at this amazing creature. “Oh, indeed, Miss!”
“Yes, and people who helped to make it will someday have on their conscience the blood of millions of young men.”
Bunny broke in, “You see, Vee—”
But she put out her hand to stop him. “Wait! I want to know what you mean!”
“I mean that this picture is part of the propaganda to get us into a war with Russia, and a woman that lends herself to such work is a disgrace to her sex.”
Vee glared, and fury leaped into her face. “You bitch!” she cried, and her hand shot out, and smack! she landed a blow across Rachel’s cheek.
For one horrible moment Bunny stood numb; he saw the red start to Rachel’s face, and the tears start to her eyes; then he sprang between them, and caught Vee’s hand to stop another blow. “No, Vee, no!” A burly policeman completed the job of blocking the way between the two antagonists, and Rachel faded back into the crowd—something it was easy enough to do, since everybody was pushing to the front. In the confusion Bunny became aware of one hideous thing—a young man jabbing at them and demanding, “What is it? What is the matter? What happened, Miss Tracy? What was the trouble, officer?” Bunny whispered into Vee’s ear, “Quick! It’s a reporter!” He grasped her arm, and they fled through the crowd.
XV
Sitting in their car, with Bunny driving, Vee whispered, “Who is that woman?”