and, owing to the exactions of his position, he had become linked
more closely than ever to business detail. At the same time he had
become more and more unapproachable. Unlimited power had forced
him into the peculiar isolation of a chief executive; he had grown
hard, suspicious, arbitrary. Even to his son he had been for years
a remote being.

It was not until the last conference had broken up, not until the
last forces had been disposed for the coming battle, that he spoke
to Merkle of Bob's marriage. Merkle told him what he knew, and the
old man listened silently. Then he drove to the Elegancia.

Bob and Lorelei had just returned from the theater, much, be it
said, against the bridegroom's wishes. Bob had been eager to begin
the celebration of his marriage in a fitting manner, and it had
required the shock of Hammon's death added to Lorelei's entreaties
to dissuade him from a night of hilarity. He was flushed with
drink, and in consequence more than a little resentful when she
insisted upon spending another night in the modest little home.

"Say! I'm not used to this kind of a place," he argued. "I'm not a
cave-dweller. It's a lovely flat--for a murder--but it's no place
to LIVE. And, besides, it doesn't look right for me to come to
your house, when all the hotels are gasping for my patronage. I
never heard of such a thing. Makes me feel like a rummy."

"Don't be silly," she told him. "We acted on impulse; we can't
change everything at a moment's notice. I couldn't bear a hotel
just yet."