“Got into your room, eh?” Harden Pennell said, thickly, then exploded in moist laughter.  “Bertie’s work is all right, but it’s coarse.  Don’t you mind him, Mrs. Wharton.”

“Will you send some one for Bob?” Lorelei asked, more quietly.  “I want to—­leave.”

But her hostess protested.  “Now why stir up trouble?  Bob is drunk; he and Bertie are old friends.  Bertie will apologize in the morning, and—­after all, it was nothing.  I told you he was mad about you.  He’s just like any other man, and you shouldn’t have encouraged him.”

“Will you send for my husband?”

Mrs. Fennell’s gaze hardened; she stiffened herself, saying coldly: 

“Why, certainly, if you insist upon rousing the whole household; but he’s in no condition to understand this silly affair.  You might have some consideration for us.”

“Sure!” echoed the husband.  “Go to sleep and forget it.  Don’t spoil the party.”

“You realize we have other guests?” snapped Mrs. Fennell.

Bright disks of color were burning in Lorelei’s cheeks; she was smiling peculiarly.

“Rest easy,” she said.  “I’ve no wish to embarrass you nor to drag my husband into this rotten business.  It seems he’s as modern as the rest of you, but I’m—­old-fashioned.”

There came a knock at the door, and Hayman’s voice, calling: 

“Betty!  Let me in!”

His sister opened the door an inch or two.  “You mustn’t come in now,” she expostulated, then cried, sharply:  “Why, you’re badly hurt.  You’re all bloody!” As Hayman agreed in a burst of profanity she exclaimed fretfully:  “Oh, this is dreadful!  Go to your room, for Heaven’s sake!  I’ll see what I can do with this—­with Mrs. Wharton.”  Bert continued to growl until his brother-in-law led him away down the hall.  Then Mrs. Fennell turned acidly upon her outraged guest.  “Well, you’ve caused enough trouble, it seems to me, without involving the rest of us in it.  A woman of your experience should be more careful.  I’m sure Bertie never would have taken such a liberty if he hadn’t thought you were accustomed to such things.”

Lorelei broke out sharply.  “You’re as badly mistaken as your brother was.  But—­I should have been more careful; I suppose a woman of my experience shouldn’t have come here at all.  Now, I don’t want to cause any trouble nor scandal, so if you’ll permit me to thank you for your hospitality I’ll leave at once.”

“Leave?  At this hour?”

“In ten minutes, if you’ll rouse a chauffeur and let him drive me to the station.”

“Nonsense!  You can’t get Bob—­”

“Bob needn’t know anything about it; I’m sure that will be pleasanter all around.  I’ll go alone.”  Lorelei’s forced smile bared her even, white teeth.  “Of course, if it’s too much trouble I can walk—­”

“No trouble at all.”  Mrs. Fennell showed some relief.  “I think you’re acting very rudely—­but I dare say it would save a lot of unpleasantness; Bertie’s furious—­he and Bob might fight.  I—­I’m dreadfully sorry.  Still, I can’t permit you—­”