"No."
"Well—it's the wherefore of that I want to know. Why wouldn't you?"
"Because you have no right, no cause, to make me presents. You practically told me so yourself—you said good-bye."
"But don't you take all you can get?" he asked, almost with brutality. So the passion was stirring in him. All that came to his lips found utterance.
At any time, she would have resented that. Now she knew instinctively what the brutality in it expressed.
"No," she replied under her breath—"you might know I don't."
"And so you're returning this because I said good-bye—you're returning this because I said I was not the type of man who hugs the idea of matrimony. How could you take a gift from such a man—eh? I suppose to you it savours almost of an insult. Yet, have you any conception what your returning it seems to me?"
She shook her head.
"It hurts. Do you think you'd feel inclined to believe that? You'd scarcely think I was capable of a wound to sentiment, would you? I am in this case. I gave you that, because I couldn't give you other things. That bangle was a sort of consolation to my thwarted wish to give. I'm quite aware that a woman gives most in a bargain; but a man likes to do a little bit of it as well. Half the jewellers' shops in London 'ud have to close if he didn't. Some of 'em 'ud keep open I know for the women who are bought and prefer the bargain to be settled in kind rather than in cash. And jewellery pretty nearly always realizes its own value. But this was a gift—a substitute for other things that I would rather have given you."
He paused and looked steadily at her, her head drooping, her fingers idly, nervously bending the woven gold.