Lilas rose swiftly with a complete change of manner; she was smiling no longer; her face was sinister. "Very well," she agreed. "To-night. Why not? But I want Lorelei to stay and--hear. Yes." "No, I don't want her." "I do." Lilas's bad temper flared up promptly from the hot coals of a spiteful drunken stubbornness. "She'll stay till you go, or else I'll put you out too. I don't trust you." She laughed disagreeably. "Then have your way. It's you I want to talk with, anyhow, drunk as you are. Now, Bob--will you say good night?" He waved the two men from the room, and the outer door closed behind them. Lorelei had little desire to remain as the witness to a distressing scene, but she seized upon the delay, for even a sordid lovers' quarrel was preferable to the caresses of a sodden bridegroom. But daylight seemed a long way off--she feared Bob would not fall asleep during this brief respite. "Now come with me, if you please." Hammon turned in the direction of the library, and Lilas followed, pausing to light a cigarette with a studied indifference that added fuel to his rage. Lorelei seated herself at the disordered dining-table and stared miserably at the wall. "Well?" said Hammon, when he and Lilas were alone. "Is this how you live up to your promises?" "How did you know I went out to-night?" she inquired in her turn. "I had you watched. After what happened last night I was suspicious. I've been waiting for hours--while you were out with that grafter, drinking, carousing--" He bent toward her, white with fury, but she blew the smoke from her cigarette into his face, and he checked himself, staring at her strangely. For the first time he forgot his own injured feelings and perceived the insolent defiance in her expression. It took him aback, for in all his aggressive, violent life of conquest no one had ever defied him, no one had ever insulted him nor deliberately set about rousing his ire. But Lilas, he saw, was doing so, and with a purpose. There was more in this woman's bearing, he decided, than reckless defiance--there was an intentional challenge and a threat. Therefore with an effort he governed himself, recoiling in surprise. She had seated herself upon the edge of the reading-table, one foot swinging idly. She watched him with a brooding, insolent amusement. "Are you just drunk," he said, uncertainly, "or--have you completely lost your senses?" "Yes, I'm drunk, but I know what I'm doing. I went out last night, and you warned me. I went out again to-night and--Oh yes! I helped marry your friend's son to a show-girl. What are you going to do about it?" "I--why, you mustn't talk like that; you're not yourself, Lilas." He ran his eyes over the luxurious little room; he wiped his face with a shaky hand, feeling that it was he who had lost his senses. "The wine is talking. When I asked you to marry me I never dreamed--"