Now that I recall that conversation I realize how gentle she was towards my crude and callous notions concerning personal adornment.
"Yet you went to England in order to fetch my jewels."
"No, I went to England in order to be of use to a lady. But tell me—why do you wear jewels off the stage?"
"Simply because, having them, I have a sort of feeling that they ought to be used. It seems a waste to keep them hidden in a strong box, and I never could tolerate waste. Really, I scarcely care more for jewels, as jewels, than you do yourself."
"Still, for a person who doesn't care for them, you seem to have a fair quantity of them."
"Ah! But many were given to me—and the rest I bought when I was young, or soon afterwards. Besides, they are part of my stock in trade."
"When you were young!" I repeated, smiling. "How long is that since?"
"Ages."
I coughed.
"It is seven years since I was young," she said, "and I was sixteen at the time."