Adoree began to undo the buttons at her back, but Bob seized her hands.
"Let go. I'll blow up if I see that creature," she exclaimed, in a kind of subdued shout.
Argument proved vain until Lorelei told her firmly: "You owe it to yourself, dear. And we WON'T let you go."
The dancer ceased her struggles, her brows puckered. "Perhaps I do owe it to myself, as you say. Anyhow, I haven't taken a human life yet, and this is my chance."
"Don't kill him, just stay and spoil his dinner," Lorelei urged.
Determination gleamed in Miss Demorest's countenance. "I'll do it—he's spoiled many a dinner for me. But give me room. Don't touch me. I'm distilling poison like a cobra." She seized the gleaming bread-knife and brandished it. "When the crisis comes, stand back."
"Seriously, now, Lorelei has told me everything, and I want Campbell to acknowledge his mistake," said Bob. "The public has swallowed that royalty hoax, but there's no use deceiving him."
Despite her show of bravery Adoree was panic-stricken when the bell rang and Bob went to the door to explain the change of plan and invite Pope in.
The latter could be heard saying: "That's fine. Me for a home-cooked dinner. Here's an unabridged cluster of orchids for Mrs. Wharton, too. If I'd had time I'd have brought you a hanging-lamp or a plush album decorated with sea-shells." He entered the living-room with a hand extended and a smile upon his lips, then halted as if frozen. By the time he had been introduced to Adoree he had burst into a gentle perspiration.
Certainly the personal appearance of the notorious dancer was sufficiently unexpected to shock him; she might have been anything rather than a king's favorite; she looked far more like a prim little housewife as she helped Lorelei with her homely tasks, and the incongruity affected Pope painfully. With involuntary suspicion he avoided her after his first stiff greeting; but his eyes followed her furtively, and he wandered slightly in his attention to Bob's chatter.