A soft tap came on the door and a softer whisper.
“Are you asleep, Mrs Temple?”
She rushed to open it. Mrs Cork stood there.
“I thought you were in bed and asleep!”
“No,” stammered Loree. “I was just going to undress.”
“I only wanted to bring you this,” said Mrs Cork lightly, and handed something to her in a glittering heap. “Of course it was all a mistake of that silly Mrs Solano’s. Mr Quelch was very angry with her, but she is extremely penitent, I believe, and going to write you a letter of abject apology in the morning.”
Loree took the necklace without a word. Mrs Cork gave her a strange look, then she said “Good-night” abruptly and went swiftly down the corridor.
Loree locked the door and returned to her dressing-table. Very slowly she let the necklace ripple out of her hands through her slim fingers on to the white cloth. It lay a heap of glory, winking at her. At first she hated it. It had given her some terrible moments. She had a mind to fling it through the windows into the garden below and let who would find it and keep it. But she looked at it too long, and once more it wove its magic round her heart, round her mind, round her senses and her conscience. At last she took it up and kissed it.
“Oh, my darling!” she cried. “If I had lost you!”
Suddenly it occurred to her to look at the clasp.