Part 29 (1/2)

Mary was as good as her word, and she made sure that the several parcels were on their way to Riverside Drive before she returned to the front of the store. When she did so she saw a little tableau, un.o.bserved by the busy clerks and customers, which made her heart stand still.

Lorna was standing by one of the bon-bon show cases talking to a tall stranger who ogled her in bold fas.h.i.+on, and a manner which indicated that the conversation was far from that of business.

”Who can that be?” thought Mary. An intuition of danger crept over her as she watched the shades of sinister suggestion on the face of the man who whispered to her sister.

The man was urging, Lorna half-protesting, as though refusing some enticing offer.

Mary stepped closer, and the deep tones of the stranger's voice filled her with a thrill of loathing. It was a voice which she felt she could never forget as long as she lived.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The deep tones of the stranger's voice filled her with a thrill of loathing.]

”Come up to my office with me when you finish work and I'll book you up this very evening. The show will open in two weeks, and I will give you a speaking part, maybe even one song to sing. You know I'm strong for you, little girl, and always have been. My influence counts a lot--and you know influence is the main thing for a successful actress!”

Mary could stand it no longer.

She touched Lorna on the arm, and the younger girl turned around guiltily, her eyes dropping as she saw her sister's stern questioning look.

”Who is this man, Lorna?”

The stranger smiled, and threw his head back defiantly.

”A friend of mine.”

”What does he want?”

”That is none of your affair, Mary.”

”It is my affair. You are employed here to work, not to talk with men nor to flirt. You had better attend to your work. And, as for you, I shall complain to the manager if you don't get out of here at once!”

The stranger laughed softly, but there was a brutal twitch to his jaw as he retorted: ”I'm a customer here, and I guess the manager won't complain if I spend money. Here, little girlie, pick me out a nice box of chocolates. The most expensive you have. I'm going to take my sweetheart out to dinner, and I am a man who spends his money right.

I'm not a cheap policeman!”

Mary's face paled.

Her blood boiled, and only the breeding of generations of gentlewomen restrained her from slapping the man's face. She watched Lorna, who could not restrain a giggle, as she took down a be-ribboned candy box, and began to fill it with chocolate dainties.

”Oh, if Bobbie were only here!” thought Mary in despair. ”This man is a villain. It is he who has been filling Lorna's mind with stage talk.

I don't believe he is a theatrical man, either. They would not insult me so!”

The manager bustled about.

”Closing time, girls. Get everything orderly now, and hurry up. You know, the boss has been kicking about the waste light bills which you girls run up in getting things straight at the end of the day.”

Mary turned to her own particular counter, and she saw the big man leave the store, as the manager obsequiously bowed him out.

In the wardrobe room where they kept their wraps, Mary took Lorna aside. Her eyes were flaming orbs, as she laid a trembling hand upon the girl's arm.

”Lorna, you are not going to that man's office?”