Permit me to examine it."
The girl tore the ring from her finger and flung it on the table. I
made a move as though to push back my chair.
"I wouldn't do it, sir," warned William quietly.
My muscles relaxed.
"Do not commit any rash action, Mr. Comstalk," said the girl, smiling
bravely into my eyes. "This gentleman would not appreciate it."
The master rogue picked up the ring and rolled it lovingly about his
palms.
"Beautiful, beautiful!" he murmured. "Finest pigeon-blood, too. It is
easily worth a thousand. Shall I give you my note of exchange for
it?"--humorously. The girl scorned to reply. He took out a little
chamois bag and emptied its contents on the table. How they sparkled,
scintillated, glowed; thousands in the whitest of stones! How he ever
had got his fingers on them is something I shall never learn. "Aren't
they just beautiful?" he asked naively. "Can you blame me for coveting
them?" He set the ruby on top of the glittering heap. It lay there
like a drop of blood. Presently he caught it up and--presented it to
the girl, who eyed him in astonishment. "I only wanted to look at it,"
he said courteously. "I like your grit as much as I admire your
beauty. Keep the ring."
She slipped it mechanically over her finger.
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