“It won’t be necessary to call your father, dear,” said the woman in a mocking tone.

“But the ransom… I haven’t any money with me!” stormed Marcia, stamping her pump-shod foot with anger.

“What a temper! That’ll please our customers, I know.”

“Customers… that’s the second time I’ve heard that word. Please have the goodness to explain to me just what it is you want, if you don’t want ransom.”

“You’re an unobservant little fool if you haven’t made a study of your new quarters by this time,” responded her jailer, with a sensual smile. “Mean to tell me you haven’t got the drift of those pictures on the wall?”

“Whatt have they to do with anything? They’re vile, horrible,” burst out Marcia.

“Then you don’t care for men, my fancy miss? You’ll just have to get used to them, you see. For you’re going to earn your own ransom, as Marie will have to earn hers!” said the mysterious woman, appraising both the girls with an enigmatic smile.

“Earn our ransom?” echoed Marcia.

The face of the woman hardened, she contemplated Marcia coldly and said, “Yes, dear; that’s the long and short of it. This is a call house, where gentlemen with full purses and itching feeling’s get rid of both!” and she chuckled mirthlessly.

“Mon Diets,” gasped the lovely blonde soubrette, turning to her mistress, “c’est un bordel-it’s a brothel, Miss Marcia!”

And now it was Marcia’s turn to gasp in horrified terror.

She looked at the termagant as if she could not force herself to believe the ruthless fact.

The woman nodded, satisfied with the effect of her words and pursued: “That’s it. The blonde seems to have more sense about things; maybe she’ll earn her way out a lot sooner than you, Miss Fancy-Gown!”

“Do-do-you mean-that-that-you’re going to make us-entertain-men?” faltered Marcia; her arrogance and composure waning.

“Of course, you little fool! So, to get ready for your first customer, you’re going to let Marie fix you up. Marie, do you comprehend me?”