They pressed her for the story of her own adventures and she supplied it rapidly as she could invent. It was not easy to eliminate Sam from the recital; more than once she checked his name on her lips. Yet she managed a very fair yarn. It filled Polly with thrills of awe and admiration. She could not take her eyes from the narrator.
In fact, so completely did she study the figure of this remarkable young woman that she was moved to a startled exclamation:
"Why, Rosalind!"
Polly was pointing at Rosalind's left arm. It was too late to hide it; the bracelet was glowing dully in the afternoon light.
"Where on earth did you get it?"
Rosalind flushed with anger and dismay. Reggy was staring, also.
"So you do wear it sometimes," he said with a sigh.
"But it's the one we found!" exclaimed Polly, bewildered. "And then we gave it to the sale. And they lost it! And—why, Rosalind!"
The wearer of the telltale ornament was for once speechless. All her resourcefulness was swept away in an instant. Her cheeks were very red, but her eyes were defiant. The look she gave Polly was fairly murderous.
A noise from up-stairs caused abrupt silence in the library. Everybody heard it clearly. It was a footstep!