Page:Richard Marsh--The joss, a reversion.djvu/46

34 to you; now you shall hear me talk to her. Is your name Emily Purvis?”

“Yes, sir. It’s the first time—I never meant it—it wasn’t my fault”

Emily broke into stammering speech; he cut her short.

“Don’t you trouble yourself to talk; I’ll do all the talking that’s required. You were out after hours with Miss Blyth. I’m not going to ask any questions, and I’ll listen to no explanations; young women who scour the streets at midnight are not the sort I like. We are judged by the company we keep. You were Mary Blyth’s companion last night; you’ll be her companion again. With her, you’ll draw what is due to you; with her, you’ll clear yourself off these premises inside half an hour. Now, stop it!”

Emily began crying.

“Oh, Mr. Slaughter, I’ve done nothing! it isn’t fair! I’ve nowhere to go to!”

“Oh, yes, you have, you’ve outside this office to go to. Now, no nonsense!” He struck a hand-bell; a porter entered. “Take these young women out of this; let them have what’s due to them; see they’re off the premises inside half an hour.”

“Oh, Mr. Slaughter!” wailed Emily.

It made me so angry to see her demean herself before that unfeeling thing of wood, that I caught her by the wrist.

“Come, Emily! don’t degrade yourself by appealing to that cruel, unjust, hard-hearted man. Don’t you see that he thinks it fine sport to trample upon helpless girls?”

“Come, none of that.”

The porter put his hand upon my shoulder. Before I knew it we were out of the office and half a dozen yards away. I turned upon him in a flame of passion.

“Take your hand from off my shoulder! If you dare to touch me again you’ll be sorry!”