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screwed up as if someone were tuning the strings of a violin. Suddenly she realized that something in her was getting past her control, that something would break, there would be a scene. Her habitual impulse toward prayer caused her to glance up and murmur piteously, "O God, help me! Help me!"

Then, like an answer to her prayer, she saw emerge from the door of the Grand the striding figure of Mrs. Roxie Biggers. At the sight of the old woman a sob of relief clutched Nessie's throat. The girl knew that this old woman was noted for her Christianity, her endless charity and good deeds. Now she had an impulse to fly after Mrs. Roxie and implore her help. The old woman would be her succour in this nightmarish scene; a motherly refuge to whom she could turn amid these silent staring men.

But Mrs. Roxie hurried so rapidly that Nessie would have become more conspicuous, if that were possible, should she try to run and catch up with her. The girl watched her disappear around a corner with tears of despair starting in her eyes. Her last hope of rescue had vanished.

After three endless minutes of walking, she entered the Grand. She met a village youth whose name she did not know. As he passed her in the narrow aisle between two counters of dry goods, he gave her an almost imperceptible wink and brushed his fingers across her hip.

Nessie gasped as if he had struck her with a lash. Such fear rushed upon her and weakened her that she did not know whether or not she could get to her millinery department at the end of the store.

Then she saw Mr. Baxter come angling toward her through the spaces between the ends of the counters. His face was serious and unsmiling.

"Miss Nessie!" he called to her in a queer undertone.

The girl stopped, holding to the cloth on the counter, waiting for him to come up. She noted his hair combed sleekly across his bald spot; his carefully trimmed mustache; his suave face which had the look of one accustomed