“You here?” he demanded, facing his parent.
“Yes,” replied John Boland, “I’m here. I came, because I had been informed that you were to meet a woman of the tenderloin in this place; and when I find you, I find you fighting with a dive-keeper.”
Harry dropped the struggling Druce and turned on his father.
“What do you mean?” he asked, defiantly.
“I mean just that,” replied John Boland. He turned toward the musicians’ stand and pointed dramatically at Patience Welcome, who, her face almost as pale as her white lace gown, was advancing toward the front of the platform to sing.
Harry Boland’s face went white as hers.
The words he gasped were drowned by a cry, Elsie Welcome, coming for the first time since her return to Druce into the drinking room, saw her sister standing upon the rostrum, poised to sing.
“Patience! Patience!” she screamed in a voice of despair. “Oh, my sister, what brought you to this place?”
She fell to the floor fainting. The whole cafe was in an uproar.
Carter Anson, roused to fury by the disturbance, fought his way through the crowd to the place where he had seen her fall.