“Fortunately, I haven’t bought it yet,” she said carelessly. And she took it from him and put it—in her pocketbook. “The stone seems to have been undisturbed in that setting for a long time,” she added, as she closed the pocketbook.
“Oh, there’s no telling as to that. It was manufactured by the newest process. It has been only two or three years, I believe, since they learned to put in the flaws so cleverly. They make them very well in New York now.”
“Thank you so much, Mr. Macready,” said Elsie. “You won’t say anything about it, will you?”
“You needn’t have asked that, Miss Pope,” answered Macready with a reproachful smile.
“Thank you again,” she said. It was not until she was driving away, that her cheeks began to burn fiercely and the hot tears of shame and anger to scald her eyes.
XIV
SHE went straight to her father with the whole story. He listened sitting at his desk, balancing a broad ivory paper-cutter on his forefinger. She felt much better when she had finished; her anger seemed to have been carried off in her words.
After a long silence her father said: “What do you wish to do?”