“Say, you know Lilas is back.  Well, she’s gone off her nut—­she’s going to give herself up.”

“Give herself up?  How?”

“She’s going to tell the truth about the Hammon affair.  She thinks she’s dying.  Where do we go from here if she does that?”

Bob could not conceal his alarm, which increased when his brother-in-law begged him to do something quickly to save them all from disaster.  “I wouldn’t come to you,” Jim confessed, candidly, “if I knew what to do; for you don’t like me, and I’m not crazy about you.  But we’ve got to stand together on account of Lorelei—­not that I’d enjoy a call on the district attorney at any time.”

Agreeing that there was no time to waste, the two men hastened to Lilas’s hotel, only to receive a greeting that was far from auspicious.  When they had adroitly brought the conversation around to the point at issue Lilas explained: 

“Yes, the doctors have ticketed me.  They’ve shown me the gate.”  She coughed hollowly and laid her hand on her chest.  “Oh, it’s the white bug!  That closes the show for me.”  She appeared very ill, and it did not occur to Bob to doubt her.

Jim began briskly:  “Why, that’s nothing, Lilas!  Arizona is the place for you.”

“Arizona is a long jump from Broadway.”

“I’ll help you if you need help,” Bob hastened to offer.

Lilas flashed him a grateful glance from eyes that were doubly large and dark against her pallor.  “You’re a prince with your money, but—­it’s too late.”

“Nonsense!”

“Oh, they’d get me sooner or later.  I may as well face the music.”

“Do you mean slow music?  Do you mean the bugs will get you?” Jim inquired.

“No.  I mean I’d have to take it on the dodge if I went, and what’s the use of that?  I’ve talked too much.”  With a sudden flash of feeling she cried:  “I’ve been through hell for eight months, and I’m tired out.  I came home broke, sick, thinking of that night when—­you know!  I seem to see his face everywhere.  It bothers me at night.  I used to dream of my father and a stream of molten steel.  Well, the dreams are getting worse, only now I see Jarvis’s face in place of my father’s, and I tell you I can’t stand it; I can’t stand these dreams, and that face of his looking at me all the time.  So I’m going to give myself up, have it over with, and do my penalty.  Maybe I can sleep then.  If my lungs hold out, all right; if they don’t—­well, I’ll sleep anyhow.  You see, I can’t make a living, for I can’t go back on the stage.  Why, I can’t leave this hotel—­and take my trunks.”

Jimmy Knight broke out nervously, “That penalty talk is all right for you, Lilas, but think about the rest of us.”

“Yes; Lorelei, for instance,” Bob added.  “She isn’t strong.  You mustn’t think of doing this thing.”

“I know,” Miss Lynn nodded.  “I’m sorry, but—­”

“I’ll furnish all the money you want.”  She looked her gratitude again.  “You must buck up and try to get well.”