"Oh, we--the birds and I--are merely decorations--something to add to the rich man's gaiety. But I'm afraid you don't intend to have a good time, Mr.--" They had found their places at the table, and Lorelei's escort was seating her. "I didn't catch your name when we were introduced." "Nor I," said he, taking his place beside her. "It sounded like Rice Curry or some other damnable dish, but it's really Merkle--John T. Merkle." "Ah! You're a banker. Aren't you pretty--reckless confessing your rank, as it were?" "I'm a bachelor; also an invalid and an insomniac. You couldn't bring me any more trouble than I have." "You ARE unpleasant." "I'm famous for it. Being the only bachelor present, I claim the privilege of free speech." Again he looked toward Hammon, and this time he frowned. "From indications I'll soon have company, however." "Indeed. Is there talk of a divorce there?" She inclined her head in the host's direction. Merkle retorted acidly: "My dear child, don't try to act the ingenue. You're in the same show as Miss Lynn, and you must know what's going on. This sort of thing can't continue indefinitely, for Mrs. Hammon is very much alive, to say nothing of her daughters. I dare say they'll hear about this supper, which won't improve conditions at home. Now, we both had to come to this Oriental orgy, and, since neither of us enjoys it, let's be natural, at least. I haven't slept lately, and I'm not patient enough to be polite." "It's a bargain. I'll try to be as disagreeable as you are," said Lorelei; and Mr. Merkle signified his prompt acquiescence. He lit a huge monogrammed cigarette, pushed aside his hors d'oeuvres, and reluctantly turned down his array of wine-glasses one by one. "Can't eat, can't drink, can't sleep," he grumbled. "Stewed prunes and rice for my portion. Waiter, bring me a bottle of vichy, and when it's gone bring me another." The diners had arranged themselves by now; the supper had begun. Owing to the nature of the affair, there was a complete absence of the stiffness usual at formal banquets, and, since the women were present in quite the same capacity as the performers who were hired to appear later on the stage, they did not allow the moments to drag. A bohemian spirit prevailed; the ardor of the men, lashed on by laughter, coquetry, and smiles, rose quickly; wine flowed, and a general intimacy began. Introductions were no longer necessary, the talk flew back and forth along the rim of the rose-strewn semicircle. CHAPTER IV Lorelei turned from--the man on her left, who had regaled her with an endless story, the point of which had sent the teller into hiccoughs of laughter, and said to John Merkle: "I'm glad I'm with you to-night. I don't like drinking men." "Can a girl in your position afford preferences?" he inquired, tartly. Thus far the banker had fully lived up to his sour reputation.