Sarah moistened her lips.
“I think,” she said slowly, “I think I ought to say that I’m rather unsettled.” Her fiancé paled, and Forsyth shot her a swift glance. “I don’t say here and now that I won’t go through with it, but——”
“But you must,” cried Virgil. “You must. Why, that tiara alone——”
“—unless and until this matter is cleared right up, I’m sorry, but . . .” She drew off her engagement ring and laid it upon the table. “I think perhaps, if Mr. Forsyth would put this in his safe . . .”
There was a dreadful silence.
At length—
“I’m sure,” said Forsyth, turning to look at Pardoner, “we both understand. It’s very natural. The wretched business places you both in a false position.” He picked up the ring and slid it into an envelope. “I may add that I look forward confidently to restoring this pretty thing to you, directly I’m back.” He rose and walked to the door. “And now, good-bye. Don’t worry, because I’m away. My managing clerk, Maple, will be at your service.”
As in a dream, Virgil followed Miss Vulliamy down the stairs and out into the broad square. There she gave him her hand and bade him farewell.
At half-past ten the next morning Pardoner received a letter of some importance.