Edith nodded. “When I saw you two together the other day I felt the same thing, so you’d better give her this. It’s more appropriate. You see, Jack,” she went on with a smile that was rather sober, “I’m not the marrying kind.”
“Nonsense,” he expostulated.
“It’s quite true, and girls know it by instinct rather early in life. Then they try to forget it, and settle down in a sort of way to making other people comfortable. But they can’t help seeing what’s going on all round them—I mean other girls with their men—and feeling a bit out of it. It’s a bit solemn for a woman to realize that she’ll never waken the biggest thing in the world in the heart of a man, because she lacks the indescribable something that is necessary, and it makes a good many of us queer and cantankerous. You see we don’t possess what every woman longs for.
“Sometimes, too, she has a sort of perception about others. I had it when I saw you with Jean; and, Jack, it made me happier than in a long time. That’s why I want you to give her this bangle, which is really lovely, and also tell me just what I can do to help. You needn’t make any bones about that. It’s my job, and I’m thankful for it. And for goodness’ sake, old boy, don’t think of me as being down in the mouth. I’m not. I understand about you and Jean, and nothing would make me happier, but as for all the rest of this queer affair I don’t understand it at all. So tell me what I can do, and I’ll do it. And don’t you ever think of me as a good-hearted and deserving spinster, or I’ll never forgive you.”
It was a long speech for Edith, who but seldom let herself go. Derrick was oddly touched and patted her arm affectionately. He knew she wanted no thanks and felt that in the next few days he might need her more than ever before.
“I’d like to tell you something. You probably won’t accept it as I do, but you ought to know, and somehow I’m glad you don’t believe in the occult.”
“I don’t,” she said frankly.
“Well,” he laughed, “please carry on. Nothing could help me more. I’ve no desire to spend the rest of my life in criminal investigation. I know you think I’m being carried too far by this one and am collecting a lot of unimportant data that I anticipate will produce something remarkable later on. Perhaps I am, but I’m going to see it through, and you know what I’m working for.”
“She’s a darling,” murmured Edith, thoughtfully.
“It means everything to have you say that.” He looked at her keenly and, deliberating how much to tell her of what was in his mind, decided to leave the matter where it stood and disclose only what was necessary.