“It’s only a short story. When I was a young girl, I was foolish enough, Mr. Jason, to fall in love, or at least to think I did. There was a young English attaché—I know I can rely on your perfect discretion—at my father’s court, and he—he forgot the difference between us. He was a man of rank, though. Well, I was foolish enough to accept from him a very valuable ring—a fine ruby—quite a family heirloom. Of course, I never wore it, but I took it. And when I married, I——”
She paused.
“Your Royal Highness had no opportunity of returning it?”
“Exactly. He had left the court. I didn’t know where he was, and—and the post was not quite trustworthy.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“I saw in the papers the other day that he was married. Of course I can’t keep it. His wife ought to have it—and I dare not—I would prefer not to—send it.”
“I see. You would wish me——”
“To be my messenger. Will you?”
Of course I assented. She went into an adjoining room, and returned with a little morocco case. Opening it, she showed me a magnificent ruby, set in an old gold ring of great beauty.