She sipped her coffee, looking moodily into the dark garden. Loree snatched this opportunity to scrutinise the diamond. It winked at her like a little demon with bluish-green eyes.
“Will you think me very inquisitive if I ask whether your diamond came out of the Kimberley mine?” she said.
Mrs Cork smiled indifferently.
“No: it is a Brazilian. Are you interested in diamonds?”
“They exercise a sort of fascination over me,” said Loree slowly. “Though I never thought about them much before.”
The other woman examined her thoughtfully.
“Yes: one does begin to think about them here. Kimberley is a wicked place.”
The statement gave Loree a sensation—not altogether disagreeable.
“It seems so quiet and peaceful.”
The other smiled cryptically.