“None of your damn business.”

“How old are you?”

“None of your damn business.”

Martin’s open hand sailed through the air and collided with Janey’s cheek. The impact nearly tore her head off.

“For the third time,” he said. “Don’t make me knock all your teeth out. How old?”

“I’m—I’m almost twenty-three,” she said, stammering with fright.

“That’s about what I thought. Though you make a very convincing teenager, in this outfit. Okay. We leave for New York tomorrow morning.”

“New York? We leave?”

He nodded smilingly. “I was just handing you a line, about Philadelphia and my being an architect. I’m from New York. Down here on vacation. I’m not an architect, either. I’m—in a number of businesses. And now I’ve got a new one.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“You will, soon enough. You have any family here? Are you married to that goon I beat up?”

“I was just living with him,” she said faintly. “I don’t have any family.”

“Okay, then. You’re coming with me. I’ll set you up in my place in New York and we’ll run this statutory rape gimmick for all it’s worth.”

“No—no,” she murmured. “Charley and I—we were supposed to get married—”

“He’s a nothing.”

“I don’t want to go away with you.”

The so-called architect’s face was suddenly menacing. “You’ll leave with me or I’ll fix you so you aren’t good for anything, after this. You hear?”

Thoughts pinwheeled wildly through her head. She was afraid of this strange man, afraid of his strength, his cruelty. But he offered the mystery and adventure of New York, of money. Why hang around with—he said it, a nothing—like Charley, when she could go to New York? She wavered, half afraid, half tempted.

Suddenly the door burst open. Charley stood there, a battered, bloody, disheveled figure. There was a knife in his hand. He had gone back to the car to get his knife, Janey thought.

“Okay, you bastard,” Charley muttered in a low, hate-filled voice. “You’re pretty handy with your fists, aintcha? And you got cute ideas about my girl? Well, after I’ve carved you a little maybe you’ll have different ideas.”

He came forward, kicking the door shut behind him. Martin, unarmed, retreated into a corner of the room. He had gone very pale. Charley was like a hulking gorilla, moving slowly toward him with the knife.

“Nobody gets to beat me up like that,” Charley grunted. “I’m gonna cut your ears off first. Then—”

“Keep away from me, you ape!”