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Updated: May 5, 2025
As a matter of fact, she memorizes the jokes in all the funny papers and springs them as her own. Her men friends say she's too original to be in the show business." For a moment the girl at Merkle's right engaged his attention, and Lorelei turned again to the incoherent story-teller beside her, who had made it plain by pawing at her that he was bursting once more with tidings of great merriment.
In time a light broke through his troubled mind, and he returned to Broadway, lost in thought. Evidently Merkle's plan was working. Adventures of moment had also fallen to the lot of Jimmy Knight on this day.
The shorts are running to cover, and there's a report that it was suicide, which makes things worse. It couldn't have happened at a more inopportune time, either. Dad's on his way from Pittsburg to help save Merkle's bank." "Shouldn't you have been at business on such a day?" Bob shrugged carelessly. "I'm only a 'joke' broker. The governor thinks a firm-name looks well on my cards.
There she paused to look cautiously up and down the thoroughfare, and then climbed the brass-bound stairs to Dr. Merkle's door. The same bushy-headed mulatto girl admitted her, and after the same interval of waiting in the red plush parlor she was once more summoned to Dr. Merkle's office. The doctor received her without surprise, and led her into the inner plush sanctuary.
The strange car held to its course; there was a blast of horns, a dazzling instant of intense illumination, then a crash as the inside mud-guards met. Merkle's car seemed to leap into the air; there was a report of an exploding tire; Lorelei felt a sickening sense of insecurity, and found herself hanging, bruised and breathless, across the back of the driving-seat.
"Yes, mam," he heard Merkle's voice, "yes, mam. I will tell him, mam. Will you keep possession, mam." And then in the doorway of the study, "Mrs. Skelmersdale, sir. Upon the telephone, sir." Benham reflected with various notes in his hand. Then he went to the telephone. "You Wicked Boy, where have you been hiding?" "I've been away. I may have to go away again." "Not before you have seen me.
Hammon soothed his charmer in his clumsy, elephantine way, showing that, despite Merkle's recent insinuations, he still trusted her. "This is the only woman who ever cared for me, John," he explained, after some hesitation, "and we're going to stick together. We have no secrets." "Your little Fifth Avenue establishment rather complicates matters, doesn't it? What are you going to do about that?"
Bob continued his cheerful colloquy over the wire. "Just got in from your nightly joy-ride, eh? Lucky I caught you. Say! Here she is now. We'll expect a marble clock with gilt cupids from you, Merkle Want to say hello?" He lurched aside from the telephone as Lorelei snatched the receiver from his hand. "Mr. Merkle," she cried. "Hello! Yes. Is that you?" came Merkle's steady voice.
The coming of a new day brought a sharper consciousness of ineluctable reality, and with it a sense of the need of action. She looked at herself in the glass, and saw her face, white in the autumn dawn, with pinched cheeks and dark-ringed eyes, and all the marks of her state that she herself would never have noticed, but that Dr. Merkle's diagnosis had made plain to her.
"I told you I couldn't understand their figures. But Merkle's a millionaire. If you had ten dollars you'd give one to square a copper, wouldn't you? Well, your name's Wharton, and his is Merkle. There's fifty million dollars behind those two names, and Max knows it. If I had the price I'd pay it to save you people who helped me when I needed help, but what have I got?
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