up the challenge. He asked
her in plain words the question which his eyes had already demanded.

"I find myself constrained to ask you," he said, in a studiously
measured tone, "by what means you became possessed of the pearls you are
wearing? I do not seem to remember them as your property."

Her eyes flashed.

"Don't you think," she returned, "that you are a little outstepping your
privileges?"

"Not in the least," he declared. "You are my wife, and although you have
defied me in a certain matter, you are still subject to my authority. I
see you wearing jewels in public of which you were certainly not
possessed a few months ago, and which neither your fortune nor mine--"

"Let me set your mind at rest," she interrupted icily. "The pearls are
not mine. They belong to Mrs. Draconmeyer."

"Mrs. Draconmeyer!"

"I am wearing them," she continued, "at Linda's special request. She is
too unwell to appear in public and she is very seldom able to wear any
of her wonderful jewelry. It gives her pleasure to see them sometimes
upon other people."

He remained quite silent for several moments. He was, in reality,
passionately angry. Self-restraint, however, had become such a habit of
his that there were no indications of his condition save in the slight
twitchings of his long fingers and a tightening at the corners of his
lips. She, however, recognised the symptoms without difficulty.

"Since you defy my authority," he said, "may I ask whether my wishes
have any weight with you?"

"That depends," she replied.

"It is my earnest wish," he went on, "that you do not wear another
woman's jewelry, either in public or privately."

She appeared to reflect for a moment. In effect she was struggling
against a conviction that his request was reasonable.

"I am sorry," she said at last. "I see no harm whatever in my doing so
in this particular instance. It gives great pleasure to poor Mrs.
Draconmeyer to see her jewels and admire them, even if she is unable to
wear them herself. It gives me an intense joy which even a normal man
could scarcely be expected to understand; certainly not you. I am sorry
that I cannot humour you."

He leaned towards her.

"Not if I beg you?"

She looked at him fixedly, looked at him as though she searched for
something in his face, or was pondering over something in his tone. It
was a moment which might have meant much. If she could have seen into
his heart and understood the fierce jealousy