“And so you must have the mate to that ring to-night?” said Madame De Marke, after a moment’s reflection.
“Must have the mate to that ring to-night,” repeated Jane, with a self-confident toss of the head.
“Well, now, how sorry I am, dear; but the room isn’t safe for things so costly, you know, and it was only yesterday I sent it down to the bank.”
“Indeed!” drawled Jane Kelly, eying her friend distrustfully; “so you are certain there is no mistake about the bank. It don’t happen to be under the bed now, in a little morocco box, inside of one with iron clamps?”
“What, what!” exclaimed the old woman, starting up fiercely, “you know this; you have been peeping and prying about my room, eh? But it isn’t there; I sent boxes and all down to the bank; so you can try at your game there; perhaps you’ve got a skeleton-key, or something of that sort.”
“No,” said Jane, rising in a fury; “but I’ve got the power to make you suffer, and I will, if that ear-ring isn’t forthcoming by to-morrow night. My oath is good yet, and one picks up a little law now and then in the institution. It’s no joke to bribe a person to murder.”
“Ha! you’re cute, dear—very cute; so you will make oath to that, eh?”
“Yes, I will make oath to that, if the diamond ear-ring in my trunk hasn’t a mate by this time to-morrow night.”
“But you forget,” cried the old woman, “that the baby is dead.”
“Not at all, Madame De Marke; I recommended the nurse; that was all. She has had plenty of children before from the Almshouse.”