“Nothing,” he murmured reassuringly—“at least nothing you can help. An unfortunate accident. A fellow fooling with a revolver, out there, has wounded himself rather badly.”
“Oh, poor fellow—”
“Who is it?—”
“What a strange thing to be playing with a revolver at this hour!”
“Where is he hurt?—”
The women were all speaking at once, in great excitement and curiosity, but Quelch’s calm manner began to reassure them. Though not able to tell them much, he disclosed the belief that the wound was not fatal, and gently advised every one to go to bed. Loree was one of the first to follow his good counsel. As she moved away he stepped beside her for an instant.
“Oh! Mrs Temple, it was quite all right about the necklace of course. Mrs Solano is immensely sorry to have made such a mistake, and is writing to you in the morning.”
“Oh... thank you,” stammered Loree, turning very pink.
“Mrs Cork has it, and will return it to you,” added Quelch, then turned back to the few still questioning women who lingered, and Loree hastened to her room.
Valeria Cork was not awaiting her as she had hoped. The last seen of that lady—who did not dance—was at a bridge table in the lounge, brooding (to judge by her looks) over a bad hand and a bad partner. Well, no doubt she would arrive presently. In the meantime Loree stood waiting in a state of almost painful relief. It had been a glorious evening. As a woman she had achieved un succès fou by her beauty and her clothes. She had lit many little fires in the eyes of men—hungry little fires of longing and desire and admiration such as most women think it no shame to light and leave burning. But through it all she had felt a consuming fear about the diamonds. That horrible incident had shaken her through and through, and come near to spoiling her pleasure in the rest of life. And now since Quelch had spoken the words that put an end to her suspense she allowed herself for a moment to realise the terror of what might have been if Mrs Solano had been able to make good her claim. What a frightful scandal might have ensued! ... a scandal that would surely have reached Pat’s ears—her Pat so dear and trusting! He seemed to grow suddenly very dear as she sat there waiting and wondering: dear as things departed for ever out of reach are dear: dear as the dead!