"Mary pungles up two hundred dollars every month for me and sends me spending money besides. I feel like a dog but, of course, I'd do it for her and she's getting a hundred a week now. But she has a kid sister she's putting through high school, besides, so I'm glad I'm well again. I wrote her so two weeks ago but she hasn't answered yet."
"Where does she answer from?"
"Why, Hollywood, of course. She's still with the SunKraft. But she's out on special 'loke' stuff a good deal, I fancy."
"I see," said Stone. "She's a good pal, isn't she?" And he did see, far more than Peggy Furniss guessed. He saw Mary Leslie as "Lola" working under the fat and sensuous Castro for his profit and the entertainment of his patrons, submitting, or, rather, enduring, the "freshness" she hated for the sake of the hundred dollars a week that kept Peggy up here in the sanitarium and her younger sister getting an education, while she valiantly lied, doubtless to both of them, even sending her letters into Hollywood for mailing, to aid the righteous deception. "Some pal, indeed!"
"I'll say so," replied Peggy Furniss. "I only hope that I'll get the chance to make it up to her. Paying her back the money doesn't mean anything to Mary. And," she added, ruefully, "I'm stuck here until she sends me the getaway price of a ticket. I was hoping she'd come up for me but, if she's playing leads or seconds, I can't expect that."
Stone could understand why Mary Leslie, or
