ther had stolen it, the loss had not been so
much the loss of the gems as of his large trust in her. When Madame
Beattie had threatened him with exposing her he had not paid her what he
could because the gems were priceless, but that Esther's reputation was.
And so he had learned that Madame Beattie was unscrupulous. What was he
learning now? Nothing new about Madame Beattie, but something astounding
about Esther. The first upheaval of his faith had merely caused him to
adjust himself to a new sort of Esther, though only to the old idea of
women as most other men had had the sense to take them: children,
destitute of moral sense and its practical applications, immature
mammals desperately in love with enhancing baubles. He had not believed
then that Esther lied to him. She had, he was too sure for questioning,
actually lost the thing. But she had not lost it. She had hidden it,
with an inexplicable purpose, for all these years.

"Esther!" he said. She lifted her head slightly, but gave no other sign
of hearing. "We'll give this back to Madame Beattie."

"No, you won't, Jeff," said Madame Beattie. "I'd rather have the money
for it. Just as soon as you get into the swing again, you'll pay me a
little on the transaction."

"Sell the damned thing then, if you don't want it and do want money,"
said Jeff. "You've got it back."

"I can't sell it." She had half closed her eyes, and her lips gave an
unctious little relish to the words.

"Why can't you?"

"My dear Jeffrey, because, when the Royal Personage who gave it to me
was married, I signed certain papers in connection with this necklace
and I can't sell it, either as a whole or piecemeal. I assure you I
can't."

"Very well," said Jeff. "That's probably poppycock, invented for the
occasion. But you've got your necklace. There it is. Make the most of
it. I never shall pay you another cent."

"Oh, yes, you will," said Madame Beattie. She was unclasping and
clasping a bracelet on her small wrist, and she looked up at him idly
and in a perfect enjoyment of the scene. "Don't you want to pay me for
not continuing my reminiscences in that horrid little man's paper?
Here's the second chapter of the necklace. It was stolen. You come
walking in here and say you've stolen it again. But where from? Out of
Esther's hand-bag. Do you want the dirty little man to print that?
Necklace found in Mrs. Jeffrey Blake's hand-bag?"

Jeff was looking at her sharply.

"I never said I too