The lines of his sinister face, loosened and sagging slightly from
drink, deepened for an instant. "Let them talk. I can do more for
you than Merkle can."

"Merkle?" Her expression did not change.

"Now don't let's deceive each other." He had never found it
necessary to cultivate patience in his dealings with women, and
when she pretended ignorance of his meaning he flared out, half in
weariness, half in anger:

"Oh, play your game with strangers, but don't put me off. Weren't
you caught with him at the Chateau? Hasn't he fixed you up at the
Elegancia? Well, then--"

"You needn't finish. I'm going home now."

He laid a detaining hand upon her arm. "You never learned that
speech in one of my shows," he said, "and you're not going to say
good night to me. Understand?" He grinned at her with disgusting
confidence, and she flung off his touch. They had been speaking in
low tones, because of the two vacant-faced boys across the table;
now Lorelei turned appealingly to them. But they were not
creatures upon whom any woman might rely. Nor could she avail
herself of Mrs. Thompson-Bellaire's assistance, for the widow's
reputation was little better than Bergman's, and from her attitude
it was plain that she had lent herself to his designs. He was
murmuring slyly: