The girl stood motionless, looking straight before her.
“Is—is that what you brought me here for?” she asked with forced calmness.
“Sure. Why do you suppose I dressed you up like that? Your stock in trade is your good looks. Sell it.”
The girl drew herself up rigidly.
“I won’t do it,” she said. She started toward the door.
“You will!” grated Druce, following her.
“Never,” she answered. “I’ll die first. Good-by!” The door closed after her.
Anson had returned to the room and had witnessed the scene.
“Well,” he sneered, “there goes the first move in your plan. You’ve lost that one.”
“You think so?” Druce sneered in return. “Well, don’t lose any sleep worrying about that one. She ain’t got a dime. She’ll be back.”