And, advancing to the divan, she seized Marie by the wrists and dragged the girl from the amorous embrace And when Marie was on her feet, her face crimson with delicious confusion, Marcia, summoning all her anger into a single blow, slapped Marie full across the mouth, setting her teeth in a rictus of hatred and revulsion.

“Oh, mam’selle!” cried the startled girl.

But, as she writhed to escape Marcia’s reprisal, the masked stranger rose and, with a single step, was on the combatants. He seized Marcia by the hair and dragged her head back till she cried out in pain and relinquished her grasp on Marie’s Wrists.

Then, imprisoning her wrists behind her back and keeping them rigorously maintained in his left hand~ he drew from the pocket of his tuxedo a long, thin, but sturdy cord.

“Marie,” he said masterfully, “you are going to prove your affection for me; if you do, I shall help you escape. But your mistress stays here. Will you aid me?”

Marcia struggled like a snake, squirming, trying to kick, turning her head in an agonized attempt to bite the stranger, to set herself free from the contaminating touch of a man. “Oooh! You beast! Let me go! Marie, if you help him, I’ll have you sent to prison! Do you hear, you little bitch?”

Tossing the cord to Marie, who caught it mechanically, standing, her eyes wide at the turn of events, the stranger calmly raised his right hand and cuffed Marcia… once… twice thrice… across the mouth! “That is for Marie,” he said calmly. “And now, my little one, let us tie up your mistress. Ah, I see an excellent place!”

Dragging Marcia, despite her struggles, her attempts to plant her pump-shod feet and recalcitrance, the stranger brought her to the wall beside the divan.

There, set into the woodwork, were two metal rings, placed wide apart.

He forced her with her back to the wall. Marie advanced, holding the rope.