Part 30 (1/2)

”Oh! So you are Miss Chester--and I--saved you!” She laughed harshly.

Helen strove for calmness. ”I'm sorry you feel that way,” she said, coolly. ”I appreciate your service to me.” She moved towards the door.

”Wait a moment. I want to talk to you.” Then, as Helen paid no heed, the woman burst out, bitterly: ”Oh, don't be afraid! I know you are committing an unpardonable sin by talking to me, but no one will see you, and in your code the crime lies in being discovered. Therefore, you're quite safe. That's what makes me an outcast--I was found out. I want you to know, however, that, bad as I am, I'm better than you, for I'm loyal to those that like me, and I don't betray my friends.”

”I don't pretend to understand you,” said Helen, coldly.

”Oh yes, you do! Don't a.s.sume such innocence. Of course it's your role, but you can't play it with me.” She stepped in front of her visitor, placing her back against the door, while her face was bitter and mocking. ”The little service I did you just now ent.i.tles me to a privilege, I suppose, and I'm going to take advantage of it to tell you how badly your mask fits. Dreadfully rude of me, isn't it? You're in with a fine lot of crooks, and I admire the way you've done your share of the dirty work, but when you a.s.sume these scandalized, supervirtuous airs it offends me.”

”Let me out!”

”I've done bad things,” Cherry continued, unheedingly, ”but I was forced into them, usually, and I never, deliberately, tried to wreck a man's life just for his money.”

”What do you mean by saying that I have betrayed my friends and wrecked anybody's life?” Helen demanded, hotly.

”Bah! I had you sized up at the start, but Roy couldn't see it.

Then Struve told me what I hadn't guessed. A bottle of wine, a woman, and that fool will tell all he knows. It's a great game McNamara's playing and he did well to get you in on it, for you're clever, your nerve is good, and your make-up is great for the part. I ought to know, for I've turned a few tricks myself. You'll pardon this little burst of feeling--professional pique. I'm jealous of your ability, that's all. However, now that you realize we're in the same cla.s.s, don't look down on me hereafter.” She opened the door and bowed her guest out with elaborate mockery.

Helen was too bewildered and humiliated to make much out of this vicious and incoherent attack except the fact that Cherry Malotte accused her of a part in this conspiracy which every one seemed to believe existed. Here again was that hint of corruption which she encountered on all sides. This might be merely a woman's jealousy- -and yet she said Struve had told her all about it--that a bottle of wine and a pretty face would make the lawyer disclose everything. She could believe it from what she knew and had heard of him. The feeling that she was groping in the dark, that she was wrapped in a mysterious woof of secrecy, came over her again as it had so often of late. If Struve talked to that other woman, why wouldn't he talk to her? She paused, changing her direction towards Front Street, revolving rapidly in her mind as she went her course of action. Cherry Malotte believed her to be an actress. Very well--she would prove her judgment right.

She found Struve busy in his private office, but he leaped to his feet on her entrance and came forward, offering her a chair.

”Good-morning, Miss Helen. You have a fine color, considering the night you pa.s.sed. The Judge told me all about the affair; and let me state that you're the pluckiest girl I know.”

She smiled grimly at the thought of what made her cheeks glow, and languidly loosened the b.u.t.tons of her jacket.

”I suppose you're very busy, you lawyer man?” she inquired.

”Yes--but not too busy to attend to anything you want.”

”Oh, I didn't come on business,” she said, lightly. ”I was out walking and merely sauntered in.”

”Well, I appreciate that all the more,” he said, in an altered tone, twisting his chair about. ”I'm more than delighted.” She judged she was getting on well from the way his professionalism had dropped off.

”Yes, I get tired of talking to uncle and Mr. McNamara. They treat me as though I were a little girl.”

”When do you take the fatal step?”

”What step do you mean?”

”Your marriage. When does it occur? You needn't hesitate,” he added. ”McNamara told we about it a month ago.”

He felt his throat gingerly at the thought, but his eyes brightened when she answered, lightly:

”I think you are mistaken. He must have been joking.”

For some time she led him on adroitly, talking of many things, in a way to make him wonder at her new and flippant humor. He had never dreamed she could be like this, so tantalizingly close to familiarity, and yet so maddeningly aloof and distant. He grew bolder in his speech.

”How are things going with us?” she questioned, as his warmth grew p.r.o.nounced. ”Uncle won't talk and Mr. McNamara is as close-mouthed as can be, lately.”