"Never?"
"You have a lot to learn. You'd better think seriously about it."
"My mind is made up."
"It's a long long road," sighed Madame. "Few have the strength to come back after they set out upon it. A few years as a rule is sufficient. The girl's beauty fades and unless she has saved her money she is a forgotten lady. In the end she is in the gutter, swapping her charms for a glass of whiskey or a bite to eat."
Reba shuddered. "I'll never get to the gutter," she said firmly. "I'll save my money."
"The gutter is much nearer than the stars. It is forever holding out its arms to you."
"I'm not afraid."
"What a pity."
"I don't want pity."
"And I don't blame you." Madame's manner abruptly changed. "After all it is a swell life. That is, of course, if you are a heavy drinker."
"Booze nauseates me."
"What a pity." Madame again shook her head sadly. "I don't see how you can be a success without it."
"Then I'll learn to drink."
"Good. I think you'll do. I have a very special patron. I'll have you meet him tonight. He's a bit rough but has plenty of money. . . . Terese!" she called to her maid, "see that Reba Gair is assigned to a room."
That night Reba was introduced to Ivan Alter although of course she did not know his name. Names were seldom used at Madame's establishment except when patrons did not desire anonymity.
Ivan had never looked so much of a gargoyle. He wore no collar. His shirt was filthy, open at the throat, displaying a hairy chest. His hair was unkempt and greasy and exuded an unpleasant odor.
"Never mind how I look, kid," he said harshly. "You see
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