drinking, Bergman, who devoted himself assiduously to his
employee, showing more effect from it than the others. He utterly
refused to take her home. As the night wore on he became more and
more offensive; he grew coarse in a sly, tentative manner, as if
feeling his ground. He changed the manner of his dancing, also,
until Lorelei could no longer tolerate him.

"Getting tired, my dear?" he queried, when she declined to join
the whirling throng.

"Yes. I want to go."

"All right." He leered at her and nodded. "Still living on
Amsterdam Avenue?"

"No. I've moved to the Elegancia."

"So? How does mother like it?"

"She's--I'm living alone."

Bergman started, his eyes brightened. "Ah! Then you've come to
your senses finally. I thought you would. Let's finish this dance,
anyhow."

"I don't want to be seen dancing too much with you."

"Why?"

"You understand why, Mr. Bergman." She eyed him coolly.