Wharton assured her with abnormal emphasis that her lightest wish
was law.

"Then go straight home from here," she pleaded.

"I say, that's not fair." Bob looked ludicrously shocked. "I
promised Jim--Wouldn't have me break a sacred promise, would you?
We're expected--a little game all arranged where we can bust it
quick. If you hear a loud noise--that'll be Melcher going broke."

"Melcher!" Lorelei looked sharply at her brother, who was
approaching with her wraps, and noted that he was perfectly sober.
A moment later she checked Bob in the act of giving directions to
the cab-driver:

"Wait. Where do you live, Mr. Wharton?"

"The Charlevoix." It was the most expensive bachelor apartment
building in the city.

"Drive to the Charlevoix," she told the chauffeur.

"Hold on, Sis," cried Jim. "We're going to take you home first."

"No."

"But--" Jim saw in his sister's face something that brought a
smothered oath to his lips. Drawing her out of hearing, he
muttered, angrily, "Mind your business; I've got something on."