"I came to see Lorelei. Say, there's some society people out front
who want to meet you, and you're to join them after the show."

"Indeed. Who said so?"

"Bergman."

"Declined, with thanks," promptly said Lorelei.

"Oh, wait. You can't decline this; it's business; Bergman says you
must come as a personal favor to him. Mrs. Thompson-Bellaire is
giving a box-party, and she told him to fetch you around for
supper. She owns a piece of this show, and the theater belongs to
the estate, so you'll just have to go."

"Mercy! Mrs. Thompson-Bellaire, the college-boy's giddy
godmother," Lilas mocked. "I suppose she's out slumming, with her
kindergarten class."

Slosson frowned at this levity. "Will you go?" he inquired. "Yes
or no?"

"Um-m--I'll have to say 'yes,' it seems."

"Good. I'll 'phone Bergman."

When the press-agent had gone Lilas regarded her companion with
open compassion. "Gee! But you're going to have a grand time. That
bunch thinks it's smart to be seen with show-people, and of course
they'll dance all night."