She gazed at the next picture-it too was a scene of carnal intercourse: a blond girl, clad only in a chemise, was on all fours on a lush rug; and, holding high the hem of her light garment in one hand, while with the other he groped for her pendant, bare breasts, was a naked male, his organ of consummation aimed for the delectable downed nook’ revealed between the girl’s widened thighs “Horrible…“ murmured Marcia, her face contorting with disgust. “What sort of place must this be and why has no one told me what the ransom terms are to be?”

She turned… at the right, the room ended with an arched doorway, covered by velvet~. drapes. Curious, she drew these aside and stood on the threshold of a smaller room.

It was a bedroom, in which the single furnishing was a great, wide bed, covered with exquisite lace and satin sheets, coverlets and pillows, deep, soft pillows.

And here again she was astonished: for this magnificent bed resembled her own in almost every detail!

It must be coincidence; but how came it that this outwardly appearing ramshackle old house should be so elegantly furnished within and that among the furnishings were a boudoir table and a bed that seemed exact replicas of her own?

She had an alligator-skin purse with her; she opened it, took out a cigarette, lit it and seated herself in one of the love seats.

No sound reached her. Was she to be left alone like this, incommunicado?

A half hour passed thus. She finished her cigarette, lit another with impatience. Her eyes involuntarily rose to the wall, but when they discerned the foul, lascivious tableaux, she shuddered and withdrew her gaze.

At last she heard the sound of footsteps along the corridor. They came nearer … neater still then stopped outside the door of her prison.

A key turned… she rose quickly, holding up her purse as if it were a weapon with which she meant to defend herself.

The door opened.

On the threshold appeared the woman who had met her downstairs and, her wrist captive in the woman’s bony hand, was-Marie!