“Oh, never fear!  It will take more than music to make me forget what you are.  Say!” She yawned, doubled up her little fists, and stretched.  “Won’t you play something to make those lovers go home, so I can go to bed?”

He shook his head.  “Not until we go to the nearest cafe and have a bite to eat.”

“There are no cafes open at this hour.”

In spite of her protestations that she was not hungry he bore her away with him, bareheaded as she was, and in the next block they found an unsuspected little place called the “Chauffeurs’ Lunch,” where a man was busy making sandwiches of the whitest bread and the most delicious-smelling Hamburger for a hungry cabby with a battered hat.  And there they each ate a bowl of crackers and milk with a baked apple, using the arms of their chairs for tables.  Pope’s bill was forty cents, and, strangely enough, not even when he paid it did he remember that this was the woman for whose company at supper other men paid five hundred dollars.

CHAPTER XXV

Bob’s work as a salesman continued to be so effective that Kurtz finally offered him a salaried position.  But instead of accepting, Bob made a counter-proposition that caused the little man to gasp.  Briefly, it was to extend the scope of the present business by laying in a stock of extravagant, high-priced shirt and necktie materials, with Bob as partner in the new venture.  Kurtz protested that he was not a haberdasher, but he was constrained to admit that Bob had the right idea of smart business, and after some discussion accepted his employee’s nonchalant offer to go halves on the new venture and share in its profits.  The fact that Bob had no money with which to carry through his part of the deal troubled that youth not in the least—­Kurtz’s credit was ample.  Bob’s theory of securing the Fifth Avenue trade was to double existing prices, and if this did not bring the business, to double them a second time; and this theory was correct, as he demonstrated when the new department was organized.

But despite the excellent income he now began to make there was never anything left in the Wharton bank-account, for Bob moved his wife to a more pretentious apartment on Riverside Drive and managed to increase their expenses so as to balance his earnings very nicely.  It was quite a feat to adjust a fixed outlay to a varying income so that nothing whatever should remain, and he considered it a strong proof of his capacities that he succeeded.

By Christmas the haberdashery venture had shown such a profit that he began to pile up a small bank-account in spite of himself; so he bought an automobile, which served to eat up any monthly profits and guarantee a deficit under the most favorable circumstances.  Being thus relieved of financial uncertainty, he laid plans to wrest from Kurtz a full partnership in the tailoring business itself.

The Whartons’ new home was charming, and Bob provided his wife with every luxury.  Lorelei did not regret that she was prevented from going out as much as formerly—­her experience at Fennellcourt had cured her of any desire to get into her husband’s social set—­ and unconsciously she and Bob began to develop a real home life.