"We don't seem to be getting along very well," Bob interposed.
"Lorelie is my wife and your daughter-in-law. What's more, I love
her; so I guess that ends the Reno chatter." He crossed to
Lorelei's side and encircled her with his arm. "There's no price-
tag on this marriage, dad, and you'll regret what you've said."

Wharton senior shrugged wearily. "You tell him, Miss; maybe he'll
believe you."

"Tell him what?" asked Lorelei.

"The truth, of course." He paused for a reply, and, receiving
none, broke out wrathfully: "Then I will. She's a grafter, Bob,
and her whole family are grafters. Now, let me finish. She makes
her living in any way she can; she smirks at you out of every
catch-penny advertisement along Broadway. She's 'The Chewing-Gum
Girl' and 'The Petticoat Girl' and 'The Bath-Tub Girl'--"

"There's nothing dishonest in that."

"Just a minute. I won't have my daughter's face grinning at me
every time I get into a street-car. I'd be the laughing-stock of
the country. It's legitimate, perhaps, but it's altogether too
damned colorful for me."

"Is that all you have against her?"

"Not by any means. She's notorious--"