“Mr. Whar—­Bob,” she cried.  “You mustn’t—­for my sake.”  The three scuffled for an instant until Hammon said, more quietly: 

“I couldn’t fight with you, Bob—­you’re like my own son.  But you’ve been sold out, and—­and it looks as if I’d been sold out, too.  Now go home and sleep.  I didn’t come here to quarrel with you; I have a matter of my own to settle.”  He laid a hand on Bob’s shoulder in an effort to pacify him, but the young man’s indignation flared into life with drunken persistence.  It was Lorelei who at last prevailed upon her husband to leave peaceably, and she was about to accompany him when Lilas Lynn checked her.

During this angry scene Lilas had not risen nor spoken, but had sat with her elbows upon the table, her chin resting upon her interlocked fingers, obviously enjoying it all.  Her eyes were very black and very brilliant against her pallor, and she was smiling derisively.

“Wait!” she interposed.  “I’m not going to stay here with this old—­fool.”

Hammon grew purple; he ground his teeth.

“You shall stay.  We’re going to have a talk and settle things once for all.”

“See?  He’s going to settle me.”

“Nonsense.  I mean—­”

“He’s liable to harm me.”  Lilas’s words were directed as an appeal to the others, but her eyes mocked Hammon.  “Jim, dear, you won’t leave me alone?”

Jimmy, not relishing in the least this attempt to goad the millionaire, remained silent, but no words from him were needed.

“We’ve got to have an understanding, right now,” stormed Hammon, “so clear ’em out.  Clear ’em out, I say.”

Lilas rose swiftly with a complete change of manner; she was smiling no longer; her face was sinister.

“Very well,” she agreed.  “To-night.  Why not?  But I want Lorelei to stay and—­hear.  Yes.”

“No, I don’t want her.”

“I do.”  Lilas’s bad temper flared up promptly from the hot coals of a spiteful drunken stubbornness.  “She’ll stay till you go, or else I’ll put you out too.  I don’t trust you.”  She laughed disagreeably.

“Then have your way.  It’s you I want to talk with, anyhow, drunk as you are.  Now, Bob—­will you say good night?” He waved the two men from the room, and the outer door closed behind them.

Lorelei had little desire to remain as the witness to a distressing scene, but she seized upon the delay, for even a sordid lovers’ quarrel was preferable to the caresses of a sodden bridegroom.  But daylight seemed a long way off—­she feared Bob would not fall asleep during this brief respite.

“Now come with me, if you please.”  Hammon turned in the direction of the library, and Lilas followed, pausing to light a cigarette with a studied indifference that added fuel to his rage.  Lorelei seated herself at the disordered dining-table and stared miserably at the wall.

“Well?” said Hammon, when he and Lilas were alone.  “Is this how you live up to your promises?”