Baldwin hesitated. He had never lied to Babe; perhaps it would be better to tell her, as gently as he could.

“That girl, Jenny,” he began, “has been causing a lot of trouble again.”

Babe feigned surprise.

“No! How?”

“Why—why, she has gone to my sister and lied—lied about you!”

“About me?”

“Yes. She said vile things about you, dear. Terrible things. And what makes it so damn rotten is that my father and sister believe her.”

He told her some of what Jenny had revealed, but he omitted the part about Babe’s being a street-walker, and did not mention Money Johnson.

Babe placed her arms around his neck.

“Oh, Wayne,” she said, “what a terrible, dangerous creature Jenny is. She thinks nothing of ruining my reputation, of destroying our happiness. But you don’t believe these things!”

Again under the influence of Babe’s charm, intoxicated with the perfume of her body, Baldwin truthfully replied:

“No, I know you too well, darling, to believe anything like that.”

“Do your people want you to give me up?”

“Yes. But of course I refused. I tried to convince them that they were all wrong. I told them I wouldn’t give you up no matter what happened!”

He held her closely in his arms and buried his face in her bosom. She laughed and mussed up his hair. Lifting his head he kissed her full lips until she could hardly breathe. Everything to him was the same as before. She was his, and to hell with the rest of the world.

Jenny, of course, was still a dangerous factor, but she could be dealt with in several ways. She was a drug addict, and could be sent away. People should be protected against that type of woman. But he did not want to be responsible for sending anyone to jail. Perhaps when she learned that her scheme to get even with Babe had failed, she would cease to trouble them.

Then the thought of Babe’s husband popped into his head; perhaps he, too, might want to cause trouble. He wondered if this prize-fighter husband would turn up. Not that he was afraid of anyone. But there were the newspapers ready to pounce on any bit of scandal that promised juicy reading.

“Have you heard anything from your husband?” Baldwin asked Babe.

“No,” said Babe, “but he ought to be home any day now. He’s been away more than three months.”

Babe wondered at his question, because Baldwin had never spoken of marriage, although he had mentioned something about her divorcing the Bearcat.

“You must free yourself from him, dear, as soon as he comes back. He might make trouble if he finds out about our living together. Is he the kind that would listen to reason, if I backed it up with a substantial financial settlement?”

“Let me handle him, Wayne,” said Babe. “I know his ways.”