“Yes, a single diamond set in a double heart of pearls.”
“Is it yours?” he asked, softly.
“No,” Virginia promptly answered, but she added in a hesitating manner, as though weighing the propriety of further explanation—“that is—well—it is mine for the purpose. I let Hazel have it unknown to Constance.”
And so it happened, a slip of the tongue, one inadvertent, indiscreet admission, gave him his cue. A vision opened to his mind and he immediately speculated on its possibilities.
“Then the ring belongs to Mrs. Thorpe?” he questioned, insidiously.
“Yes,” Virginia affirmed, in a halting way. “John gave it to Constance before they were married.”
“Oh, indeed!” Rutley exclaimed, and he muttered low and meaningly, while the whites of his eyes gleamed with sinister import. “Corway wears a ring given by John Thorpe to his wife.”
Soon as he had spoken Virginia heard and instinctively felt that she had been indiscreet in admitting the ring belonged to Constance, and said by way of caution: “Of course, I trust in the honor of your lordship to refrain from connecting Mrs. Thorpe’s name with the ring, or to, in any manner, let it be known that you know it is not mine.”
Evidently Rutley did not hear her, for he was absorbed in thought—thought that produced an evil gleam in his eyes.
A slight pause followed, and taking it for granted my lord would not betray the trust she reposed in him, she said, as looking in his eyes with significant daring: “Draw John’s notice to it as confirming Corway’s bold and deceitful attention to Hazel.”