"No, no. Don't take your hand away," was the soft rejoinder. "You poor child! My heart aches for you."
When Maggy re-entered the drawing room her eyes were suspiciously red. She seemed anxious to get away. She put her arms round Alexandra and hugged her.
"Good-by, Lexie," she said breathlessly. "Don't forget me. The best of luck. Mrs. Lambert's an angel. T-tell her so—from me."
She tore herself away, pulled down her veil, and was gone, leaving Alexandra bewildered.
Maggy stopped at a jeweler's on her way home. Taking off her bracelet, she handed it to the man behind the counter.
"Don't bother to tell me what it's worth. Just say whether it's real or sham," she said.
It was sham.
She dropped it into her bag and went out, with a new pain gripping at her heart. She never wore the bracelet again.
After dinner that evening Woolf remarked its absence. She had worn it ever since he had given it to her.
"Where's your bracelet?" he inquired. "I hope you haven't left it about or had it stolen."