Carlota turned suddenly on me and I was electrified to hear her hiss:
'Damn you! If it hadn't been for you this would never have happened!'
'What on earth do you mean?' I gasped, hardly able to believe my ears. 'What did I have to do with it?'
The only answer was a string of curses and maledictions that left me petrified with astonishment.
Zippy tried in vain to quiet her. She began to shriek.
'Let me out!' she cried hysterically, 'let me out!'
Thinking that the excitement and liquor had thrown her into some kind of a fit, I put my arms around her and tried to sooth her. She shoved me away with a violent gesture, and screamed:
'Keep your hands off me, you damned little cocksucker, keep your hands off of me!'
The chauffeur, who of course could hear the clamour, slowed up the car, and opening the glass window at his back, peered in.
'Here! Here! What's going on?' he exclaimed anxiously.
'I want to get out! Let me out!' cried Carlota.
'Certainly, you can get out if you want to!' answered the man with alacrity, and he jumped from his seat to open the door for her.
Carlota literally hurled herself from the car, and sobbing brokenly, ran off and disappeared in the darkness.
'What… what in the world came over her?' I whispered dazedly, turning to Zippy, 'What will happen to her, running around in the dark in a drunken fit?'
'Don't worry about her, Jessie. She can take care of herself.'
'But… but why did she say such awful things to me? Why doesn't she like me? I've never offended her or done her any harm!'
'Don't you know, really?' he asked.
'No I don't! Do you?' 'Why, she's jealous of you. That's what's the matter with her.'
'Jealous of me?' Why should she be jealous of me?'
'Well, you see, Jessie, she was Monty s girl before he met you.'
'Why! I thought she was your girl!'
'No,' he answered with a resigned gesture. 'Monty shoved her off onto me to keep her pacified. I did the best I could, but I wasn't up to it.'
'Oh!' I gasped weakly, 'Oh!'
Zippy placed an arm over my shoulder and patted me sympathetically. 'Monty is a good scout but he takes some wild chances. We all must have been crazy to let him take us to his house tonight.'
'I didn't want to go; I tried to talk him out of it, but I'm glad now I went. I found out several things I didn't know before. I never want to see him again.'
Unable to control my feelings, I began to cry again.
'Cheer up, kid. Don't let yourself get upset. You have to take things as they come in this life, the bitter with the sweet.
His arm tightened about me and unresisting I let him draw my head over against his shoulder where I continued to sob until I was able to restrain myself. This Zippy was a nice chap. I had always liked him but had never permitted myself to be more than discreetly friendly with him on Carlota's account. There was comfort and consolation in the sympathetic pressure of his arm, and soon I felt better.
'Will you come to see, me sometime?' I murmured. 'I'm not going to have anything more to do with Monty.'
'Of course I will, if you want me. I couldn't ask you before because, well, it just isn't cricket to poach on another man's preserves.'
'That's how I felt about Carlota. What a dummy I was! I knew from the way she acted there was something wrong, but I didn't have sense enough to suspect what it was. No wonder she didn't like me!'
The big automobile was rolling along smoothly and quietly and within another twenty-five, minutes or so I would be back in my room.
Dawn was not far off, but it was still dark outside.
CHAPTER 17
So quickly does the heart respond to kindly words in moments of distress that already a tender feeling for Zippy was taking root. He was really nice and he was good-looking too. I put my feet up under me on the car seat, and cuddled down against him with my head resting on his lap. The soft vibration of the car was soothing to the nerves and soon I felt quite comfortable.
Under the pressure of my shoulders on his lap I became aware of a disturbing element which started a new train of thoughts. I moved my body so that I could lay my hand on the disturbance, even squeeze it softly. It immediately became more pronounced and grew into a small riot. For several minutes nothing was said.
The next thing I knew his trousers were unbuttoned, the cause of the agitation was out in the open and my head was being impelled down over it by hands which exerted a firm pressure.
I was surprised at such directness, but not displeased.
'The chauffeur?' I whispered questioningly.
For answer Zippy reached over me, manipulated a switch, and darkness equal to that outside descended upon the interior of the car.
Some fifteen or twenty minutes later two discreet notes of the siren advised us that my destination was near. When the car stopped and I stepped out, the sky was tinted in the east. The night was lifting. Dawn was at hand.
I ran up the steps, rang the bell, and after a long wait the door was opened by the night maid. Within less than ten minutes all told, I was in bed and sound asleep.
I slept for at least five hours, but I would have sworn that it was not over five minutes before I was dragged from my lethargic slumber by a violent shaking and insistent voices which continued relentlessly until I finally sat up to protest the commotion.
'Wake up, Jessie! Wake up!'
It was Hester who was repeating the disagreeable phrase and shaking me insistently, but as my vision cleared I saw Madame Lafronde standing nearby, and several girls besides.
There was something in their faces which dispelled the last vestige of sleep, and I now saw that Madame Lafronde was holding a newspaper.
'Wake up, Jessie! Wake up!' pleaded Hester. 'Are you awake?'
'Yes! I'm awake! What's the matter?'
'Oh Jessie, were you with Montague Austin last night? Something dreadful has happened!'
The blood drained from my face.
'What is it?' I whispered.
'He's dead, Jessie, he's dead! There was some kind of trouble in his home last night or early this morning; there were some girls there, the police are trying to find them! We thought… we were afraid… maybe you were mixed up in it! You were out with him last night, weren't you?
The paper says there were two girls!'
'Let me see the paper!' I gasped, without answering her questions.
Silently, Madame Lafronde placed it in my hands.
Big black headlines screamed at me from across the top of a column on the front page:
MONTAGUE AUSTIN DIES UNDER MYSTERIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES.
I clutched the paper with trembling fingers and tried to read the smaller print, but my mind refused to concentrate upon the long drawn-out recital and only blazing fragments detached themselves here and there to impinge on my consciousness.
'Youngest son of late Sir Weatherford Austin died at an early hour this morning as the, result of injuries
