“Ah-h!” he muttered.
“What’s that?” demanded Anson.
“Here she comes now.”
As they looked down through the drinking room they saw the slender figure of a girl approaching. She came slowly, supporting her wavering steps with the backs of the revelers’ chairs. Her face was pale and desperately haggard. Several of the men as she passed clutched at her skirts and shouted invitations at her. She tore herself away from them and made straight for the place where Druce and Anson were standing. For a moment, Druce almost felt sorry for her.
“You’re back, kid?” he said softly.
“Yes,” replied the girl, fiercely.
“You’re going to be good?”
Elsie burst out sobbing. It was her last struggle.
“Come now, Elsie,” Druce spoke almost tenderly. “Don’t snivel.”
“Martin,” the girl gasped appealingly. “O, my God! Be kind to me.”