“I don’t know,” he said spiritlessly.
“You see Marta has an incentive to keep her straight—an incentive that I lack.”
He winced.
“Have you,” she asked cynically, “always been so straight that you don’t know what temptation means? Have you never wanted anything so much that you—”
“That I wanted to steal? No; not even to steal your affections when I thought they belonged to Jo. I will spare you exposure. When I return the ring to Hebler I will tell him it was found on the floor by a servant.”
“Thank you,” she said meekly. “If he knew I were here, he’d know who the ‘servant’ was. What do you propose to do with me now? Return the goods to Bender, or squeal on me to Hebby?”
“I don’t know until I have talked it over with Mrs. Kingdon.”
“That is very considerate and fair in you,” she commended. “Some way I feel confident she will think I should have another chance. You owe me something. ‘Kind Kurt,’” she continued lightly, with a return of the flippancy that had so jarred him on their first meeting, “suppose I had been weak enough to accept your proposal last night? I knew my lapses too well and was too considerate of your happiness to say ‘yes.’ Suppose I had. Would your sense of honor have been equal to the sacrifice of keeping faith with me? No; I see by your face it would not have been. So you see your love—your man’s love, isn’t great enough for even a thief to consider.”
“Give me the ring,” he said coldly.
“No; I prefer to return it myself. I’ll take my chances with Hebby. Even he isn’t as merciless as you. And as I said, his claim is prior to yours. I never expected to take refuge with Hebby! Where is he now?”