“Never thought of that.”

“Drive to the Charlevoix,” Lorelei said, sharply.

“No women allowed there; it’s a stag place,” objected Bob.

“Of course!  We’ll take you home.  It’s all over now,” she told him, faintly.

“You can’t get into no hotel without baggage,” explained the driver.

“That’s right.  No baggage, no money.  Deuce of a way to get married.”  Bob turned again to Jim, who solved the difficulty with a word.

“Why, you’re both going to Lorelei’s place, of course; then you can make your plans to-morrow.”

The bride’s half-strangled protest was lost in a burst of enthusiasm from Lilas.

“Surest thing you know,” she cried; “and we’ll stop in my flat for a farewell bottle; I’ve got a whole case.  We’ll end the night with another party at Jarvis’s expense.  He’s crazy about marriages, anyhow.  Ha!  But you needn’t tell him I was—­full, understand?” She fell silent suddenly, then burst into a loud laugh.  “Bah!  I should worry!” Jim struggled with her as for a second time she endeavored to thrust her silken ankles through the taxi window.

The ferry drew into its slip, the cab motor shivered, the metallic rattle of windlass and chain proclaimed the return to Manhattan.  Up the deserted avenues the vehicle sped, while inside the white-faced bride cowered with fingers locked and heart sick with dread.

CHAPTER XIV

Hitchy Koo had gone home.  When Lilas ushered her friends in and snapped on the lights, the apartment, save for the delirious spaniel, was unoccupied.  She flung down her hat, coat, and gloves, then, with the help of Jim, prepared glasses and a cooler.  Lorelei was restless; the thought of more wine, more ribaldry, revolted her, and yet she was grateful for this delay, brief though it promised to be.  Any interruption, trivial or tragic, would be welcome.  Meanwhile her husband’s eyes followed her hungrily.

Strangely enough, the fears that had driven her to this reckless marriage had dwindled steadily since the final words were spoken, and now these apprehensions seemed in no wise so alarming as the consequences of her rash act.  She cringed at her own thoughts; they set her to shivering; she stole a glance at her husband and was not reassured, for he continued to eye her with a look she did not like.  She was forced to pledge her own happiness in a glass, then in a wild moment of desperation longed to deaden herself with liquor as the others had done.

Jim and Lilas were talking loudly when a key grated in the lock, the door of the little apartment opened and clicked shut again.  Another instant and Jarvis Hammon paused on the threshold, glowering.

Lilas’s wine-glass shattered upon the floor.

“Jarvis!  You frightened me,” she cried.

“Evening, Mr. Hammon.”  Bob lurched to his feet, upsetting his chair.  “This is a s’prise.”