A Lover's Quarrel, or Marion Marlowe's Deceitful Friend — page 22: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

_ - two of them were detectives, < MY QUEEN. > P, McGillin uttered her vicious words, Marion actually laughed at her. “Why, you don’t have to lock me in to keep me, madam,” she said, jovially. “I guess I can stay awhile and let you make my ac- quaintance, for you are very much mistaken if you think I am a spy, Miss McGillin.” “Then what do you call it?” asked the woman, more softly. “You are the third that has come to that door in the last hour, and if I am any guesser. But they didn’t see me, you bet! I was in the wardrobe!” She was chuckling as she spoke, and, as she sat down by the table, she raised the bot- tle in her hand and poured some of the con- tents into one of the glasses. “How perfectly awful,” said the young girl, calmly, as she seated herself upon one of the chairs. “And Miss Fredericks is such a sweet girl. Why, she must be horribly an- noyed by it.” Miss McGillin took another drink and then offered the bottle to Marion. “IT guess you ain't a spy, after all,” she said, with better nature; well to detain you for awhile; it will give , Nora a chance to get to the depot.” “Why; is she going away?” asked Marion, innocently. “I thought she intended to re- main until her uncle came for her.” Miss:McGillin stared a moment, anéthen broke into a roar of laughter, after which she poured out another drink and gulped it down at a swallow. “Did she tell you that? good one, all right! that’s rich! She was so much amused over the joke that Marion ventured to glance around the apartment, and at last she located the patent call which communicated with the office. Wall, that’s a Hier uncle! By Jove, So he’s her uncle, is he?” - It was only a few feet away, but she hated to make a-dash for it, for fear Miss McGillin would resort to personal violence to stop her. “Have another bottle of that—that wine,” she ventured, timidly. “I'll pay for it, if you will have it, Miss MecGillin.”’ Her words were as genuine as she could possibly make them, and her expression must Mave been satisfactory, for, after a sharp “but it’s just as 19 glance into her face, the woman greedily con- sented. Marion fairly flew toward the electric reg- ister. She was afraid the woman would mis- trust her and retract her statement. _ She grasped the lever and drew it half way around. When it spoke in the office she had called for an officer. Miss McGillin was watching her, but Mar- ion’s quickness had deceived her. She half rose to her feet and then fell back upon her chair, for the liquor she had drank was slowly getting the best of her. As Marion went back to the table she be- gan to tremble violently. She was wonder- ing what explanation she could give in the office for being imprisoned in Miss Fred- ericks’ apartment. A sharp rap upon the door made even Miss McGillin spring to her feet, but Mar- ‘jon held out her hand for the key and spoke with all the-calmness she could muster. “Which is it, whisky or wine, Miss McGil- lin?’ she said, sweetly; “and shall I order a bottle of apollinaris water?” The woman sank back upon her chair, for the young girl’s acting was superb. In an instant she had fished the key from her pocket and handed it to her. Marion reached the door with her limbs shaking beneath her, and her hand trembled so she could hardly unlock it. - al The first person that met her gaze was the clerk of the hotel, whose face was clouded with anxiety as he peered into the apart- ment. ; There was a man in citizen’s dress, whom the young girl knew to be the house detec- tive, behind him,’but this individual did not look at Marion. The instant the door was opened he glanced beyond and over her shoulder. “What is it, Miss Marlowe?” asked the clerk, excitedly. Marion did not speak, but pointed behind her to where Miss McGillin was slowly rising from the table. “Let me in there a minute, Mr. said the officer, at that instant: closer look at that woman yonder.” Marion stepped back a little and held the door wide open; then, for acon ookesaonn Burnham,” “T want a