e went on, "I--I can't somehow trust you. When you have
spent this money you will come back again. I know you will. Ah! you do
not know all that this means to me."

"Well, doesn't it mean a lot to me--eh?"

"But I am a woman."

"You have money, while I'm without a sou. You surely can't blame me for
getting a bit to go on with!" he exclaimed. "Is anybody about?"

"No. Bracondale has not yet returned, and all the servants are in bed."

"By Jove! This is a pretty house of yours, Jean!" he remarked, gazing
around. He had not removed his hat. "You ought to consider yourself
deuced lucky. While I've been having all my ups and downs, you've been
living the life of a lady. When I saw you in your car at Havre I
couldn't believe it. But to see you again really did my eyesight good."

"And benefited your pocket," she added bitterly.

He grinned. His nonchalant air irritated her. He was just the same as he
had been in those days of their poverty, even though he now wore the
clothes of a gentleman.

"Well," he said at last, "I've been thinking things over this evening.
You can't expect me, Jean, to accept a lump payment for my silence, can
you? If you had a respectable sum which you could hand over so that my
wants would, in future, be provided for, it would be different. I----"

"Your wants!" she interrupted in anger. "What are your wants?
Money--money--money always! Ah, Ralph! I know you. You brought me to
ruin once, and you will do so again. I know it!"

"Not unless you are a fool!" he replied roughly. "You want your letter
back--which is only natural. For it you give me your pearls. It is not a
gift. I take them. I find the window unlatched, and come in and help
myself. To-morrow you will raise a hue and cry--but not before noon, as
I shall then be nearing old Uncle Karl, in Amsterdam. Bracondale will be
furious, the _Surete_ will fuss and be busy, and you will be in
picturesque tears over your loss. Bracondale will tell you not to worry,
and promptly make you another present--perhaps a better one--and then
all will be well."

"But you said you would leave Europe," she replied anxiously.

"So I shall."

"But----" and she hesitated.

"Ah! I see you don't trust me."

"I trusted you--once--Ralph. Do you recollect how brutally you treated
me--eh?" she asked, in deep reproach.

"I recollect that, because of you, I quarrelled with Adolphe. He loved
you, and now he's in prison, and serve him right, the idiot!"

The