ht that he did suspect the
sapphire. Well, if he did, giving it back to him would practically be
giving it back into public custody in the most decorous manner for a
properly bred young woman. And how beautifully it would extricate her
from her wretched situation! Logically, there was no fault to be found
with such a course. It was eminently sane and safe. Yet it still
appeared to her as if she were acting a coward's part. She was neither
frankly giving the jewel to the authorities with the proper information,
nor frankly handing it over to Kerr. But she was trying to slip it back
into the questionable nook from which it had been taken, and she grew
hot at the thought of how Kerr would despise her if he knew the craven
course she was meditating. She seemed to hear him saying, "I had
thought braver things of you."

Of course, that was his way of expecting that she would give him the
ring. And she felt a sort of rage against him that he should want that,
and only that, so very much. Yet she didn't know what else she wanted
him to want. Every time she thought of Kerr she found herself growing
unreasonable; and she had to whip up her resolution with the hard facts
of the case to prevent herself from drifting over on to his side
completely.

But did she really want Harry to rid her of the ring? She would get hold
of him first and then she would see what she would do.

She stepped into the hall with all the confidence of one who has fully
made up her mind to carry matters with a high hand; but at the telephone
she hesitated. Calling him up at such an hour of the morning demanding
his attendance on such a fanciful errand--wouldn't he think it odd? No,
he would think it the most natural thing in the world for her to be so
flighty. Reassured, she gave the club number and stood waiting,
listening to the half-syllables of switched-off voices and the crossing
click, click, that was bringing her fate nearer to her. She heard some
one coming up the stairs and down the hall toward her. Marrika stood
stolid at her elbow.

"Mr. Cressy," she pronounced.

"Yes, yes," said Flora, with the club clamoring in her left ear.

"He is down-stairs," said Marrika.

Flora nearly let the receiver fall. Harry here? What a piece of luck!
But here on his own account, at such an hour--how extraordinary!

"Hello, hello," persisted the club. "What's wanted?"

"Why, I--" Flora stammered. "It's a mistake; never mind. I don't want
him now." She hop