He held out to her on the palm of his hand a little, old-fashioned ring set with rubies and pearls. Nina glanced at him in momentary surprise. It was not in the least what she would have expected as the rich man's first gift. Involuntarily she hesitated. She felt that he had offered her something more than mere precious stones set in gold.
He waited for her to take the ring in absolute silence.
"Mr. Wingarde," she said nervously, "I—I am afraid it is something you value."
"It is," he said. "It belonged to my mother. In fact, it was her engagement ring. But why should you be afraid?"
For the first time there was a note of softness in his voice.
Nina's face was burning.
"I would rather have something you do not care about," she said in a low tone.
Instantly his face grew hard.
"Give me your hand!" he said shortly. "The left, please!"
She gave it, the flush dying swiftly from her cheeks. She could not control its trembling as he deliberately fitted the ring on to the third finger.