“I should like an explanation of this—this kindness.” She bit off the last word with the utmost irony.
“There is no explanation,” said Loree lamely.
“But this is your banknote?” Silence.
“I saw you pushing it under my door.” Silence.
“I insist upon an explanation.”
Still Loree kept silence. There was absolutely nothing to say. “I can only suppose,” said Valeria Cork, at last, “that it is some kind of conscience-money you were trying to foist off on me.”
“No, no!” murmured Mrs Temple, her colour growing brighter.
“Then,” said the other slowly, “you were trying to buy me. For some reason or other, you think I am to be bought.” For a moment, she looked at Loree piercingly. “That is my answer.” She flung the note in its owner’s face and swept from the room.
A sad ending to a noble deed! Loree collapsed on to her bed and wept miserably. For a time, at least, even diamonds were powerless to assuage her humiliation.