herself out of the apartment.

Bob returned in excellent spirits--nothing had power permanently
to dampen his cheerfulness--and, seizing Lorelei's hand, he
slipped a diamond ring upon her third finger, then a plain gold
band over that.

"Now we're legally wrapped up in the same package and labeled
'Wed,'" he declared. "I've been terribly embarrassed."

"How did you manage to buy these?" Lorelei inquired, with some
curiosity.

"I earned the money. Fact! It was a premium on abstinence. I met a
friend; he invited me to drink; I refused; friend was stunned.
Before he recovered I ran through his pockets like a pet squirrel.
It beats a mask and a lead pipe."

"We can't begin this way," she laughed. "I love pretty things, and
this is your first gift"--she kissed the solitaire--"but please
don't give me anything more for a while. I'm not going to lecture
you nor wear a long face nor find fault--ever--we're going to wear
smiles while our experiment lasts. To-morrow is Sunday--will you
take me somewhere?"

"Will I?" Bob cried, in delight. "I'll hire a car and we'll motor
up to Tuxedo. There's a dandy crowd out there. We'll take Adoree
and the Immaculate Critic, and we'll have dinner at the club.
Campbell can show the latest effects in negligees, and--"