Lorelei realized before long that this very jocundity of his, since it fed upon constant change and excitement, constituted the gravest menace to their happiness. The man lived entirely outside of himself; he utterly lacked the power of self-amusement, and, although he seemed content when she was near, during the long hours of her absence he was like a fretful child. He refused to frequent the theater, ostensibly because of their secret, in reality because of his shame at allowing her to work. As Lorelei came to know him better and to understand the conflicting forces within him, she began to wonder how long he could hold himself true to his bargain.
During the first week of their married life his system struggled to throw off the effects of his recent dissipations, and in consequence it craved only rest. Greatly encouraged by this lack of desire, he boasted that the battle was already won, and Lorelei pretended to agree with him.
She did not deceive herself, however, and a brief experience convinced her that to be merely a wife to one of Bob's vagrant disposition was not enough; that in order to keep his new self alive she must also be his sweetheart, his chum, and his partner. If she failed in any one of these roles disaster was bound to follow. But to succeed in them all, when there was no love to strengthen her, was by no means easy. Always she felt a great emptiness, and a disappointment that her life had been so crookedly fashioned: sometimes she even felt degraded, and wondered if she were doing right, after all. Reason argued that to live with a man she did not love was immoral, and the mere fact that she and Bob were legally married gave her no comfort whatever. There had been nothing sacred in their union; she supposed that the courts would dissolve it if the truth became known.
More than once Lorelei had spurned offers far more profitable and no less holy than that existing between her and Bob, and it seemed to her now that the difference between mistress and wife must lie in something besides the mutterings of a sleepy Hoboken court officer. Just where the line of demarcation lay, however, or upon which side of that line she stood, she could not determine.
In the course of a fortnight Bob began to grow restless. One evening when he came for her she saw that he was nervous; a strained, tired look had crept into his eyes, and she thought she understood. Nevertheless his spirits were ebullient. When they reached home he ushered her into the apartment with a flourish, and Lorelei was amazed to find their table set with strange linen, silver, and china and the dining-room decorated as if for a party.
"Who's coming? What on earth?" she exclaimed.
"A little surprise. A supper for just you and me, my dear."
Two strangers, evidently caterer's men, were completing the final preparations for an extravagant banquet. Noting a collection of wine-glasses at each place, Lorelei glanced at Bob reproachfully, but he only laughed, saying:
"Take heart. The liquid diet is all a bluff. Kindly note the centerpiece."
She saw that the center of the table was occupied by a highly decorated silver wine-cooler—empty.