"You never dreamed I'd disobey you, eh? Well, I didn't intend to so early." She laughed again. "Now I suppose you'll drop me. What?" "There's nothing else to do, if this--But I can't imagine what possessed you." She eyed him silently with an expression he could not fathom, then asked, "Tell me, do you really care for me?" Jarvis Hammon was a virile, headstrong man; his world had come suddenly, inexplicably to an end. His voice was hoarse, as he answered: "Do you think I'd have made a fool of myself if I hadn't? Do you think I'd have ruined myself?" "Have you ruined yourself?" she interrupted, quickly. "Not quite, perhaps; but what I've lost, what I've sacrificed, would have ruined most men. My home is gone, and my family--as you know--yes, and a good many other things you don't know about. Financially I'm not done for--" "That's too bad." "Eh?" She motioned him to proceed. "You've cost me dear enough, as money goes, for you've gotten into my brain, somehow. I was never foolish over women until I met you, but you made me lose my grip on things, and indirectly I paid high. I didn't care, though. I was glad. I wanted you at any price. I tried to change the world around to suit me, and--now you've spoiled it all." "That blackmail cost you something, didn't it?" He agreed, carelessly. "And your wife's divorce will cost a lot more, won't it? You've squandered quite a fortune on me, too, haven't you?" He was too bewildered by her expression to do more than stare. "No woman could totally ruin you; you're too rich for that, but you're hit hard inside, so I guess the price is high enough." Lilas nodded with satisfaction. "Thank God, I'm through, and you'll never paw me over again!" "I don't understand. What are you getting at?" "I'll tell you. I never intended to marry you, Jarvis." He started as if she had struck him. "That's what I said," she reaffirmed, "and I'll tell you why. Look at me--close." He did as she directed, but saw nothing, his mind being in chaos. It had been her intention to call Lorelei to witness this dramatic disclosure and thus enhance its effect, but in the excitement of the moment she forgot. "Look at me," she repeated. "I'm Lily Levinski." "Levinski. A Jew?" he exclaimed, in naive surprise. "Yes. I'm Joe Levinski's girl. Don't you remember?" Many times she had rehearsed this declaration, picturing the consternation, the dawning horror it would cause, and deriving a fierce, quivering pleasure from the anticipation, but the real effect was disappointing. Hammon only blinked stupidly, repeating: "A Jew!" It was plain that the name meant nothing. She slid down from her perch and approached him, crying roughly, "Don't you remember Joe Levinski?" Hammon shook his head. "He worked for you in the Bessemer plant of the old Kingman mill. Don't you remember?" "There were four thousand men--" "He was killed when the converter dumped. You were rushing the work. Do you remember now?" Her words came swift and shrill.