Lorelei nodded in perfect sympathy; she did not laugh.  “I haven’t any girl chum; let’s be friends,” said she.

Adoree had been nibbling at marshmallows as she talked; as she wiped her eyes now she left a smear of powdered sugar on her cheek.

“I’d love to—­I’m simply bursting to confide in somebody—­but we couldn’t go around together.”

“Why?  I don’t care what people think.”

“You can’t afford to be reckless.  We’re each playing our own game and chasing the dollar in our own way.  The men you met would make life unbearable for you if they knew we were pals.  Aubrey was right:  a girl must either be mighty good or mighty bad in this business—­or make people think she is, which amounts to the same thing.  You have had easy going because you’re known to be straight; but if you ever get into the papers watch what will happen.  You’ll have to fight.  You wouldn’t like that kind of fighting, either, and—­I’m not sure you could stand it.”

As Lorelei walked homeward that afternoon she felt an unaccustomed warmth in her breast, and realized that she, too, had been very lonely in the city.  The certainty that she had made a friend gladdened her heart.  She looked forward with a thrill to the morrow when she could see Adoree again.

During her absence Jim had returned and departed; but a note was waiting for her.  It had been brought by a messenger, and read: 

“Things look bad.  I’m afraid we’ll be implicated, too.  Better see your brother quickly.  M.”

CHAPTER IX

Lorelei was not a little mystified by Merkle’s cryptic message, for she could imagine no possible way in which she or the writer himself could be connected discreditably with Jarvis Hammon’s affair.  She gained some light, however, when that evening she read the note to Lilas.

“Why, they’re going to blackmail Merkle, too,” Lilas exclaimed.  “Well, they’d be foolish to let him off, wouldn’t they?  Two millionaires out with two showgirls!  Hilarious foursome at the Chateau!  Automobile wreck!  Foxy Pinkertons and flash-light photographs!  Nice story.”

“So they think he’ll pay to keep his name out of the papers?”

“Exactly.  And he will—­for your sake.”

“I won’t let him.”

Lilas was surprised.  “Why?  He’s rich.  He wouldn’t miss a few thousand.”

“You wouldn’t allow Mr. Hammon to be robbed, would you?”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?  If he didn’t care enough for me to protect me from scandal I’d want to know it.”

“Lilas, you puzzle me,” confessed Lorelei, doubtfully.  “You say things that make me think you don’t care for him at all; then again you seem to be crazy about him.  How do you feel?  How far would you go with him?”

Lilas laughed airily.  “Perhaps I’d go farther with him than for him.  He asked me to marry him if his wife gets a divorce; and I agreed.  Does that answer your question?”