“How dare I?” he said gently. “Oh, beloved one—lovely one—surely you have given the right!”
“Never! Never!” she denied passionately.
He made a gesture to her breast, where something sparkled and shone. In her struggle to loose herself from his arms, the chain of diamonds had torn its way through the filmy tissue of her gown.
“Why, then, do you wear my jewels, Loree?”
There was a long silence after that. He stood looking at her with pleading eyes. She was like something carved and riven out of pallid marble.
“Your jewels?” she whispered at last. “Your jewels?”
He shrugged a little. His eyes did not lose their tenderness, but his smile was a little disdainful of the flashing chain.
“They are unworthy of your beauty, but you have done me the great honour to wear them.”
Slowly her fingers felt for the stones and clasped them, her glance still in his.
“They are yours?” she murmured, still dazed and bewildered under the shock.