“Hello, kid,” said Druce, his manner changing.
“I want to see you, Martin,” Elsie replied. Druce noticed that she seemed deeply agitated. There were signs of recently shed tears on her cheeks.
“I’ll run along,” said Anson, seeing the girl’s agitation. When he was gone Druce drew the girl into a booth and demanded sharply:
“What the devil do you want and how did you get here?”
“I came in a taxicab,” the girl answered.
“A taxi, eh? Well, you’re learning. Who paid for it?”
“It isn’t paid for, Martin. I wanted to see you and—”
“And what?”
“The man’s waiting outside.”
Druce flushed angrily. “Look here,” he demanded. “Don’t play me for a boob. Get someone else to pay your taxi bills.”