iful--they're wonderful."

"Well, if you don't want them," he broke in angrily, "I'll keep them.
I'll sell them."

"Don't tease me, Jim!" she begged. "I don't mind if you bought them at
a pawn-shop--if that's why you won't tell me. That is the reason, isn't
it? Honestly, isn't it?"

She asked the question with eager intensity. She had persuaded herself
that it was so and the horror had been lifted. She pressed close with
smiling, trembling lips:

"I don't mind that, Jim! You got them from a pawn-broker, of course,
didn't you?"

He looked at her with a puzzled expression and hesitated.

"Didn't you?" she repeated.

"No--I didn't!" was the curt answer.

"You didn't?" she echoed feebly.

"No!"

With a quick breath she unconsciously drew back and he glared at her
angrily.

"Say, what'ell's the matter with you, anyhow? Have you gone crazy?"

"You--won't--tell me--where you bought them?" she asked slowly.

He faced her squarely and spoke with deliberate contempt:

"It's--none--of your business!"

She held his gaze with steady determination.

"That string of pearls belongs to the man who once lived in the front
room of my old building in New York. He moved uptown with my landlady. A
few months ago a burglar robbed and shot him----"

She stopped, seized his arm and cried with strangling horror:

"Jim! Jim! Where did you get them?"

"Now I know you've gone crazy! You don't suppose that's the only string
of pearls in the world, do you? Did you count 'em? Did you weigh 'em?"

"Where did you get them?" she demanded.

"What put it into your head that that string of pearls belonged to your
old boarder?"

"I saw him write the stanza of poetry on the satin lining of that case.
I've heard him recite it over and over again in his piping voice: `Each
bead a pearl--my rosary!' I KNOW that they belonged to him!"

His mouth twitched angrily and he faced her, speaking with cold, brutal
frankness.

"I might keep on lying to you, Kiddo, and get away with it. But
what's the use? You've got to know. It's just as well now--I did that
job----Yes!"

Her face blanched.

"You--a--burglar--a murderer!"

Jim followed her with quick, angry gestures.

"All I wanted was his money! He fought--it was his life or mine----"

"A murderer!"

"I just went after his money--I tell you--besides, he didn't die; he
got well. If he'd kept still he wouldn't have lost his pearls and he
wouldn't have been hurt----"

"And I stood