Jimmy Knight’s admirable hospitality continued; he devoted his entire attention to his guests, he made conversation and he led it into the channels he desired it to follow.  Then, when the psychological moment had come, he acted with the skill of a Talleyrand.  No one but he knew precisely how Bob’s proposal was couched, whence it originated, or by what subtlety the victim had been induced to make it.  As a matter of fact, it was no proposal, and not even Bob himself suspected how his words had been twisted.  He was just dimly aware of some turn in the conversation, when he heard Jim exclaim: 

“By Jove, Sis, Bob asks you to marry him!”

In prize-ring parlance, Jimmy had “feinted” his opponent into a lead, then taken prompt advantage to “counter.”

Lorelei awoke to her surroundings with a start, sensing the sudden gravity that had fallen upon her three companions.

“What—?”

Lilas nodded and smiled at the bewildered lover.  “That’s the way to put it over, Bob—­before witnesses.”

“Don’t joke about such things,” cried Lorelei, sharply.

“Joke?  Who’s joking?” Jim was indignant and glanced appealingly at Bob.  “You meant it, didn’t you?”

“Sure.  No joking matter,” Bob declared, vaguely.

“I was just saying that this is no life for a fellow to lead—­ batting ’round the way I do; then Jim said—­I mean I said—­I needed a wife, a beautiful wife.  I never saw a girl beautiful enough to suit me before, and he said—­”

Jim’s relief came as an explosion.

“There!  That’s English.  You spoke a mouthful that time, Bob, for she certainly is a beauty bright.  But I didn’t think you had the nerve to ask her.  If she says yes, you’ll be the luckiest man in New York—­the whole town’s crazy about her.”

“We’ll make her say yes,” Lilas added, with drunken decision.  “Come, dear, say it.”  She bent a flushed face toward Lorelei and laid a loose hand upon her arm.  “Well?  What’s your answer?”

Bob fixed heavy eyes upon his heart’s desire and echoed:  “Yes.  What d’ you say?” More than once in his sober moments he had pondered such a query, and now that it appeared to have taken shape without conscious effort, he was not displeased with himself.

“I say, you don’t know what you’re doing,” Lorelei responded, curtly.

Now Bob, like all men in his condition, was quite certain that he was in perfect possession of his faculties, and therefore he very naturally resented such an absurd assertion.  “Don’t you b’lieve it,” he protested.  “I know what I’m doing, all right, all right.”

“A man never speaks his mind until he’s ginned,” Lilas giggled.

“Righto!  I’m not half drunk yet.”

Jim urged the suitor on with a nervous laugh, at the same time avoiding his sister’s eyes.  “She’s stalling, Bob.  Make her answer.”

“Yes or no?” forcefully insisted the wooer, determined, now, to show his complete sobriety.