The Auction Block. Rex Beach

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СКАЧАТЬ which drew attention to them even if it did not wholly convey the illusion of a woodland scene. As for the butterflies, no artificial light could deceive them, and they clung with closed wings to leaves and branches, only now and then displaying their full glory in a sleepy protest. There were scores, hundreds of them, and the diners passed in review of the spectacle like country visitors before the glass tanks of the Aquarium. A strident shriek sounded as a gorgeously caparisoned peacock preened himself; others were discovered here and there, brilliant-hued specimens, voicing shrill indignation.

      "How—BEAUTIFUL!" gasped Lorelei, when she had taken in the whole scene. "But—the poor little things are frightened." She looked up to find her companion staring in Hammon's direction with an expression of peculiar, derisive amusement.

      Hammon was the center of an admiring group; congratulations were being hurled at him from every quarter. At his side was Lilas Lynn, very dark, very striking, very expensively gowned, and elaborately bejeweled. The room was dinning with the strains of an invisible orchestra and the vocal uproar; topping the confusion came shrieks from the excitable peacocks; the wild birds twittered and beat themselves affrightedly against the netting.

      Becoming conscious of Lorelei's gaze, her escort looked down, showing his teeth in a grin that was not of pleasure.

      "You like it?" he asked.

      "It's beautiful, but—the extravagance is almost criminal."

      "Don't tell me how many starving newsboys or how many poor families the cost of this supper would support for a year. I hate poor people. I like to see 'em starve. If you fed them this year they'd starve next, so—what's the difference? Nevertheless, Jarvis HAS surprised me." He paused, and his eyes, as he stared again at the steel magnate, were mocking. "You'll admit it was a dazzling idea—coming from a rolling-mill boss. Now for the ortolans and the humming-bird tongues. No doubt there's a pearl in every wine-cup. Prepare to have your palate tickled with a feather when your appetite flags."

      "That's what the Romans did, isn't it?"

      "Ah, you are a student as well as an artist, Miss Knight."

      "I thought you were going to be pleasant, but you're not, are you?"

       Lorelei was smiling fixedly.

      "No, quite the opposite. Thank God, I'm a dyspeptic."

      "Then why did you come here?"

      "Why did those birds come? Why did you come?"

      "Oh, we—the birds and I—are merely decorations—something to add to the rich man's gaiety. But I'm afraid you don't intend to have a good time, Mr.—" They had found their places at the table, and Lorelei's escort was seating her. "I didn't catch your name when we were introduced."

      "Nor I," said he, taking his place beside her. "It sounded like Rice

       Curry or some other damnable dish, but it's really Merkle—John T.

       Merkle."

      "Ah! You're a banker. Aren't you pretty—reckless confessing your rank, as it were?"

      "I'm a bachelor; also an invalid and an insomniac. You couldn't bring me any more trouble than I have."

      "You ARE unpleasant."

      "I'm famous for it. Being the only bachelor present, I claim the privilege of free speech." Again he looked toward Hammon, and this time he frowned. "From indications I'll soon have company, however."

      "Indeed. Is there talk of a divorce there?" She inclined her head in the host's direction.

      Merkle retorted acidly: "My dear child, don't try to act the ingenue. You're in the same show as Miss Lynn, and you must know what's going on. This sort of thing can't continue indefinitely, for Mrs. Hammon is very much alive, to say nothing of her daughters. I dare say they'll hear about this supper, which won't improve conditions at home. Now, we both had to come to this Oriental orgy, and, since neither of us enjoys it, let's be natural, at least. I haven't slept lately, and I'm not patient enough to be polite."

      "It's a bargain. I'll try to be as disagreeable as you are," said Lorelei; and Mr. Merkle signified his prompt acquiescence. He lit a huge monogrammed cigarette, pushed aside his hors d'oeuvres, and reluctantly turned down his array of wine-glasses one by one.

      "Can't eat, can't drink, can't sleep," he grumbled. "Stewed prunes and rice for my portion. Waiter, bring me a bottle of vichy, and when it's gone bring me another."

      The diners had arranged themselves by now; the supper had begun. Owing to the nature of the affair, there was a complete absence of the stiffness usual at formal banquets, and, since the women were present in quite the same capacity as the performers who were hired to appear later on the stage, they did not allow the moments to drag. A bohemian spirit prevailed; the ardor of the men, lashed on by laughter, coquetry, and smiles, rose quickly; wine flowed, and a general intimacy began. Introductions were no longer necessary, the talk flew back and forth along the rim of the rose-strewn semicircle.

CHAPTER IV

       Table of Contents

      Lorelei turned from—the man on her left, who had regaled her with an endless story, the point of which had sent the teller into hiccoughs of laughter, and said to John Merkle:

      "I'm glad I'm with you to-night. I don't like drinking men."

      "Can a girl in your position afford preferences?" he inquired, tartly.

       Thus far the banker had fully lived up to his sour reputation.

      "All women are extravagant. I have preferences, even if I CAN'T afford them. If you were a tippler instead of a plain grouch I could tell you precisely how you'd act and what you'd talk about as the evening goes on. First you'd be gallant and attentive; then you'd forget me and talk business with Mr. Wharton—he's nearest you. About that time I'd begin to learn the real names of these lords of finance. After that you'd become interested in my future. That's always the worst period. Once I'd made you realize that you meant nothing in my life and that my future was provided for, you'd tell me stories about your family—how your wife is an invalid, how Tom is at Yale, how Susie is coming out in the autumn, and how you really had no idea ladies were to be present tonight or you'd never have risked coming. Finally you'd confess that you were naturally impulsive, generous, and affectionate, and merely lacked the encouragement of a kindred spirit like me to become a terrible cut-up. Then you'd insist upon dancing. I'd die if I had to teach you the tango."

      Mr. Merkle grunted, "So would I."

      She smiled sweetly. "You see, we're both unpleasant people."

      Merkle meditated in silence while she attacked her food with a healthy, youthful appetite that awoke his envy.

      "I suppose you see a lot of this sort of thing?" he at length suggested.

      "There's something of the kind nearly every night. Is this your first experience?"

      "Um-m—no. Steel men are notoriously sporty when they get away from home. But I don't go out often."

      "This party isn't as bad as some, for the very reason that most of the men are СКАЧАТЬ