Ladies In The Parlor by Jim Tully

it.”
    “It’s just as well,” snapped Mary Ellen, “a name like that would be hard enough to bear, even in Church.”
    “Call her Rosy Rosenbloom—after Mother,” smiled Doris.
    “You mean after Mother’s dead—and then she’d haunt us.” Selma’s lithe body moved seductively across the room. “Why not name her Doreen Dewey,” she suggested.
    “That would be awful,” put in Doris, “the house’d be full of sailors, thinkin’ she was Admiral Dewey’s daughter.”
    “Well, what of it?” asked Selma.
    “Oh nothin’—except they want to pay a girl twenty cents—Mexican money,” Doris answered.
    “Maybe you’d rather have the officers,” Selma smiled.
    “Not me,” was Doris’ quick reply— ”they’d want it for nothin’—and think it was a Naval order.”
    Leora was amused, as Alice put in, “I’d hate to have you girls name my baby.”
    “Well you’ll have a name for it by the time you have one with Mr. Everlan,” again Selma smiled.
    “Why, Selma—has he disappointed you?”
    “Oh no— I just shut my eyes and dreamed of Santa Claus.”
    Mary Ellen paid no attention to the badinage. “I’ll tell you,” she clapped her hands, “Call her Leora La Rue—it sounds Frenchy and high-toned.”
    “Leora La Rue,” several of the girls repeated. Satisfying themselves, they asked Leora in unison, “Do you like it?”
    “Very much,” returned Leora.
    “All right then, it’s Leora La Rue,” said Alice, as she put an arm about Leora.

Chapter 12
    The doorbell rang.
    Mr. Skinner was brought into the parlor.
    The girls greeted him cordially, while Alice said to the housekeeper, “Mother wants to talk to him.”
    The grim woman nodded.
    Mr. Skinner, a decaying veteran in the army of sex, was stooped and wrinkled. His face was the color of leather, and sharp as an axe. The housekeeper led him away, while the girls smiled.
    He was a tradition of laughter in the house. He believed, as Alice explained to Leora, that Mrs. Rosenbloom’s mission in life was to find virgins for him. His price was two hundred a virgin… the girl would receive half. Doris and June had each been “ruined” by him. “You’ll earn your money,” Doris smiled, “it’s like trying to sleep with an eel.” She gave a slight shudder. “His damned old hands are never still.”
    “Give him a line, Leora,” said June, “make him feel he’s hurtin’ the hell out of you. He’s a rich old thing.”
    It was a new experience for Leora. She had, for a moment, a slight feeling of repugnance. June seized the opportunity to caress Leora. “It’ll be all right . . . just pretend he hurts you and sob a little—he’s too darned old to do anything more anyhow.”
    “And don’t mention money to him,” said Doris, “Mother’ll take care of that. Money spoils the romance for him.” Doris looked about the room languidly.
    The housekeeper came for Leora.
    Alice went with her to Mother Rosenbloom.
    Mr. Skinner sat, half dozing, in a chair near by.
    “He will talk to you here a while,” said Alice, “He wants it just to happen—like you met him and couldn’t resist him.”
    The housekeeper delivered Leora to Mrs. Rosenbloom as stiffly as a sheriff would a convicted criminal to the warden of a jail. Without saying a word, she bowed primly and left.
    “Now be shy,” said Alice, as Mother Rosenbloom put her hand on the professional seducer’s shoulder.
    “A little lady saw you passing through the room and wanted to meet you, Mr. Skinner.”
    His rheumy eyes blinked, as he rose and said, “Ah, so, so.”
    Leora, half bashfully, stepped before him.
    The old man’s eyes dilated. He caressed her hands.
    “We will go and join the girls now, Mr. Skinner, and do be nice to her, for everything is so strange.” Mother Rosenbloom stepped heavily away, followed by Alice.
    Once in the room, Leora stood bashfully in a far corner.
    “Come, my pretty pet,” the old man coaxed. Leora did not move.
    He advanced cautiously