to suicide--utterly false, of course, but difficult to deal with.
A Sunday "special" appeared--one of those fantastic, colored-
supplement nightmares--in which she was pictured as a vampire with
an angel's face. It was the hackneyed "moth and flame" story. The
page was luridly decorated with a swarm of entomological
curiosities--winged bipeds supposedly representing her fatuous
admirers. These fond victims of her enticements appeared to be
badly singed and crippled.

Adoree Demorest, as indignant as Lorelei herself, declared finally
that her friend must be the object of a premeditated attack
directed by some strong hand, and once this suspicion had entered
Lorelei's mind it took root in spite of its seeming extravagance.
Her good sense argued that she was of too little consequence to
warrant such an assault, but her relatives seized the suggestion
so avidly as to more than half convince her.

Mrs. Knight attributed this injustice first to Bergman, then to
Merkle, whom she hated bitterly since her unfortunate attempt at
blackmail; Jim was inclined to agree with her.

"Money can do anything," he stated, gloomily, "and these big guys
amuse themselves by hunting beautiful women. It's a game with
them. When one of 'em takes a fancy to a girl she's a goner. It
may not be Merkle in this case, but--you're the handsomest woman
in New York, and I'll bet some old spider is weaving his web for
you. When he has spoiled your good name and ruined your chances of
marrying or of making an honest living he'll creep out and show
himself. They frame innocent men for Sing Sing in this town, so
why can't they frame a girl for something else?"