en the
door.

Full beneath the light of the pendent lamp, leaning against the
serving table for support, stretched the billowy form of Maida Jones,
half reclining in the arms of the sleek-haired cook who sat on the
table edge and faced the door. Her head was thrown back in complete
abandonment and her hair was coming down about her shoulders. The
boy's close-set eyes peered up sharply as Mary Louise opened the
door. Then there was an immediate scurry, the lamp was switched off,
and directly Maida emerged flushed and sullen.

Mary Louise was stunned. Her ideas were chaotic and could take no
form. But as they stood there facing each other, she was conscious of
a rising sense of the ludicrous mingled with disgust. The memory of
that momentary scene lingered in her mind like a piece of burlesque
statuary. She stifled a desire to laugh.

Then the other culprit began to stir about among the pans. Maida was
staring at her with lips partly open, her breath still coming short
and thick.

"Turn on the light," said Mary Louise.

And then as Maida made no move:

"Go fix yourself up. There's someone in the room waiting to be
served." Her voice was heavy with the scorn she felt.

Maida recovered. She bit her lip. Then she laughed a short, nervous
laugh. "Shocked to death, aren't you?"

"Not at all," replied Mary Louise pleasantly. "It's quite charming, I
assure you." She turned and entered the kitchen. The other cook and a
maid were quietly attending to their work. She paid them no attention
but went and stood by the back window over which was stretched a heavy
wire screen, and through the thick dust of which she could see a dim,
dusty, narrow courtyard and a pile of discarded boxes.

For a long time she stood there, with her hands folded one upon the
other and resting limply upon a table. The world had taken on a
grotesque slant. It was a strange place in which it was easy to lose
one's way. Her assurance, her satisfaction, her enthusiasm had
vanished. Nothing was well ordered; everything was haphazard. People
did the most unexpected things. And there was ugliness and deceit
parading about in broad daylight. She suddenly felt herself utterly
incapable of passing judgment on anything.

And as she stood staring out through that dingy window, with the
bustle and sounds of feet behind her, two fat round tears welled from
her eyes and rolled slowly down her cheeks.

CHAPTER X

Meantime, Joe had written his name a