Kemble, watching the girl from across the room, saw the episode. He hurried across to her, with the air of pouncing on a victim.
“We’ll have none of that here, Miss Welcome,” he said. “If you have to flirt, don’t flirt on the company’s premises.”
She turned upon him indignantly. “I am not flirting! That gentleman is a friend of mine.”
Kemble sneered. “Oh, he is a friend, is he? Where does a factory girl like you meet men who ride in automobiles?”
Elsie flushed scarlet; she bit her quivering lips.
“Ashamed to tell where you met him, are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m responsible to my employers for the character of the girls I employ here.”
Elsie looked her contempt of him. She laughed a little low scornful laugh which made Kemble thoroughly angry.
“Look here, my girl,” he said. “You don’t know when you’re well off. You are too independent.” His tone of anger roused her temper, but she held herself in leash and answered with cold politeness: