rose du Barry had been matched, she suggested tea.

"We'll run right over to the Waldorf--my car is outside." But
Lorelei declined, explaining lamely that she did not care for
public places.

"Really?"

"Really. People point out one--and I get enough of that."

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