"Not for that, please! I haven't a sore throat. I—just happened to touch myself there—oh, really!" There was a laughing anguish in her voice. Was she to be handcuffed as well as starved?
"Don't be afraid of giving trouble, dear."
"Theresa always tells the truth, Mother."
"Oh, of course! Very well. But she looked as if she had a sudden pain."
"I'm afraid it is a habit."
"That reminds me of an old lady I knew when I was young. I thought she had St. Vitus's dance, until her maid told me that she wore all her valuable jewellery on her—under her dress, and she was constantly touching herself to make sure it was all there."
"What were you hiding, Theresa?"
She lifted her chin to show him the pretty lines of her bare neck.
"Ah, your own beauty," he added softly.
"Something else," she said.