"Lilas, you puzzle me," confessed Lorelei, doubtfully. "You say things that make me think you don't care for him at all; then again you seem to be crazy about him. How DO you feel? How far would you go with him?" Lilas laughed airily. "Perhaps I'd go farther WITH him than FOR him. He asked me to marry him if his wife gets a divorce; and I agreed. Does that answer your question?" "I--suppose it does." "Now that he has come to the point, I'm not sorry things happened just as they did. A woman must look out for herself--no man will ever help her. It's worth some notoriety to become Mrs. Jarvis Hammon." Something in the speaker's words rang false; but just what that something was, Lorelei could not decide. "Then you'd like to see the story made public?" she queried. "Naturally." "I dare say if I loved a man I'd want him at any price, but I--hope I'm not going to be dragged into this matter." "My dear, New York has blackmailing newspapers, just as it has blackmailing men. They live off people like Merkle. You'd be foolish to let him escape from this just to save a few dollars, for the notoriety will injure you, where it benefits me. It's not often that girls in our business know men like those two. You have a family; they can make Merkle do the right thing by you." "I don't want him to do anything," protested Lorelei. "There's nothing to do." "You could make him marry you." Lorelei winced. "Nonsense! I don't care for him. He's an old man. There's no reason why he should." "He could be made to pay, at least, and you'll be sorry if you don't get something out of him. Just wait and see what a difference the story makes with your other men friends." During the ensuing performance Lorelei pondered her friend's disquieting prophecy; yet she could see no reason for grave apprehension. Publicity of the kind threatened would, of course, be disagreeable; but how it could seriously affect her was not apparent. Later in the evening Robert Wharton appeared, as usual, and so resentful was he at the deceptions previously practised upon him that Lorelei with difficulty escaped a scene. He declared positively that he was not to be discouraged; that he proposed to have his attentions accepted at any cost, even if it became necessary to use force. He seemed sufficiently drunk to execute his threat, and his invitation to supper was couched this time more in the terms of a command. At last he borrowed a stool from the Judge, who by now was his willing vassal, and planted himself in the hallway, where he remained throughout the performance--a gloomy, watchful figure. Lorelei came down boldly, dressed for the street, and, since she could not pass the besieger, excused herself briefly. Descending the basement stairs, she crossed under the stage, made her way into the orchestra-pit, and managed to leave the theater by the front door.