"I don't know, never having met the lady. I wouldn't humiliate
myself by a personal interview, so I built a story on the Broadway
gossip. Inasmuch as she goes in for notoriety, I gave her some of
the best I had in stock. Her photographer did the rest."

The door curtains parted, and Lilas Lynn, a slim, black-eyed young
woman, entered. She greeted Pope cordially as she removed her hat
and handed it to the woman who acted as dresser for the two
occupants of the room.

"I'm late, as usual," she said. "But don't leave on my account."
She disappeared into the lavatory, and emerged a moment later in a
combing-jacket; seating herself before her own mirrors, she dove
into a cosmetic can and vigorously applied a priming coat to her
features, while the dresser drew her hair back and secured it
tightly with a wig-band. "Lorelei's got her nerve to talk to you
after the panning you gave Demorest," she continued. "Aren't you
ashamed of yourself to strike a defenseless star?"

Pope nodded. "I am, and I'm ashamed of my entire sex when I hear
of them flocking to the Palace Garden just to see a woman who has
nothing to distinguish her but a reputation for vileness."

"Did you see the crown jewels--the King's Cabachon rubies?"
Lorelei asked.

"Only from the front. I dare say they're as counterfeit as she
is."