The dancer's expression and tone changed abruptly. "I supposed you were like all the others." "Well, I'm not. When I'm away from the theater I try to forget it. I--hate the business." The reply, which came with sincere feeling, widened Lorelei's eyes with uncontrollable surprise. "Here, too," said Adoree Demorest, quietly. "But I'm not allowed to forget it. Our first meeting made me think you were--out with banners. I was hired on that occasion to be naughty. What do you say to some real tea at my house? Just you and I?" Lorelei's heart sank at thought of that gaudy machine outside, but there was an honest appeal in the speaker's eyes, and, moreover, the memory of her own obligation rose to prevent her from appearing ungrateful. "I'd be delighted," she falsified, and, gurgling with appreciation, Miss Demorest hurried her toward the nearest exit. In the street, however, Adoree paused, and her next words showed that she was not wanting in womanly intuition. "I sha'n't inflict you with a ride in that circus-wagon. It's all right for me, but--you're one of the decent kind. If you have a reputation it won't do to parade it in a show-case. We'll take a taxi." Lorelei's relief must have been obvious, for Adoree sped swiftly to the corner, then was back again without the dog. "If there's anything more conspicuous than a blonde with a white poodle," she explained, "it's two blondes with two poodles." Then, she flung herself into the cab and slammed the door. "You must think I'm very rude," her guest ventured. "Nothing of the sort. I know just how you feel." Miss Demorest's smile was a trifle strained. "Only--I'm awfully lonesome, and--I'll take care that nobody sees us." "Now I KNOW I've been nasty." Lorelei felt her embarrassment growing, for this woman differed entirely from what she had expected. Underneath the dancer's extravagant theatricalism she appeared natural and unaffected. Adoree changed the current of the conversation by saying: "I hope those bloodhounds get to fighting." "Don't you like them?" "Hate 'em! I'd use 'em to scrub the windshield if I had my way." "Why--aren't they yours?" "Oh, I suppose so; as much as that rubber-tired igloo is mine. They're my props, like the two British Peers on the box. Gee! I'd like to stick chewing-gum in the side-whiskers of the tall one--the one with the cramps in his elbows. His name's Riley, and he gets nine dollars a week for looking like that. A man's board bill isn't particular how it's made nowadays." "How--FUNNY!" Lorelei was eying the speaker with undisguised curiosity. "You're not a Frenchwoman?" "Agnes Smith is the name. Decent by descent, but an actress by advertising. What's YOUR game?" "Um-m--My nose is straight; I don't limp; so I'm an actress by force of feature." "Married?" "Hardly." "Want to be?" "Got to be." Both girls laughed unaffectedly. "I like you," said the dancer. "Do you mind if I get out of this cast-iron corset and into a kimono when we get home?"