"A baby's curl?" I said, as I returned it to her.
Her whole face went blood-red in one minute.
"The only thing I have belonging to my little sister," she said. "She died when I was a child."
"You must prize it," I said; but I could not keep the dryness of suspicion from my voice.
"Mrs. Fleming," I asked, suddenly, "are you like Lance and myself, without relations?"
"Almost," she replied, briefly.
"Strange that three people should be almost alone in the world but for each other!" I said.
"I was left an orphan when I was four years old," she said. "Only Heaven knows how I have cried out upon my parents for leaving me. I never had one happy hour. Can you imagine a whole childhood passed without one happy hour?"
"Hardly," I said.
With white, nervous fingers she fastened the gold chain round her neck again.