was whispering. From it had come a ghost in the form of Blackie Gray who had been a frequent visitor at the establishment of Madame Leota. His reputation was evil. He had plenty of money with no apparent means of support. Blackie had discovered that there was a way.
Mary Blaine sighed wearily as she drew on her shoe. Even her bunion was forgotten. Her face under its rouge had taken on an ashen hue. Nevertheless she was unafraid.
"Will you please show Mr. Gray up here?" she directed.
In a few moments Blackie Gray was in her presence. Not till Timothy had departed did he speak. Terese, at Madame's suggestion, had gone into the adjoining room. Blackie walked across the room and closed the door leading into the hall before he spoke, then he said: "Hello, Madame Leota."
"My name," she said coldly, "is Mary Blaine. While you are in this house, you will so address me. There is no need of beating about the bush. My time is limited. State briefly why you are here."
"All right, I will," he said bluntly. "The fact is I'm hard up, I need some dough."
"I see. So you looked around to find some beer-keg you could tap."
"You have marvelous powers of perception."
"And what made you think you would get money from me?"
"I knew I would," he said brazenly.
"Well you knew wrong," she snapped.
"I don't suppose you would like it to be generally known that you are the former notorious woman, Madame Leota."
"Of course I wouldn't."
"And I need money."
"I see. And I'm to buy your silence."
"Coarsely put, but in the main correct."
"And if I refuse?"
"I will outline a plot for a comedy to Dorothy Blaine."
"Make sure that it is not a tragedy."
"It's too droll for that."
"And if I give you money," she mused, "I suppose when it is gone, you will come back for more."
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