"But John! I've never done anything in all my life to deserve them, of course. Besides, I couldn't wear them—I really couldn't—I'd be afraid! And they wouldn't seem right—on me!"
"You've got to wear them!" he retorted. "We've got to go out once in a while if I'm to play this game—we've got to go to shows, theaters, operas, somewhere. They've got to sit up and say that we've got some class, Laura, I'm telling you!"
"But, John! How would I look decked out in things like that? I'm so plain, common, you know."
"That's not the question. Do you know how much these cost?"
"Why, no—maybe a thousand dollars, for all I know!"
"A thousand dollars!" groaned Rawn. "Maybe they did! Do you know what I paid for what you've got in your hand, Laura? Twenty-eight thousand dollars! That's all."
Impulsively she held out her hand to him. "Take them back!" she whispered. "It isn't right."
For one moment he looked at her, and she shrank back from his gaze. But Rawn's anger turned to self-pity.
"My own wife won't wear my diamonds," said he. "This, for a man as ambitious as I am, and a man who has done as much as I have!"
She came now and put her arms about his neck, the first time in years; but not in thankfulness. She looked straight into his eyes. "John!" she said. "Oh, John!" There was all of woman's anguish in her eyes, in her voice.