But Gracie shook her head. "Gloves don't cost all that," she said practically. "And besides, you won't have any left for yourself. Fancy giving away a whole sovereign at a time!" She addressed Sir Beverley. "It seems almost a tempting of Providence, doesn't it!"
"The deed of a fool!" said Sir Beverley.
But Piers, with a sudden hardening of the jaw, stooped over Gracie. "Take it!" he said. "I wish it."
She looked up at him. "No, Piers; I mustn't really. It's ever so nice of
you." She rubbed her golden head against his shoulder caressingly.
"Please don't be cross! I do thank you—awfully. But I don't want it.
Really, I don't."
"Rot!" said Piers. "Do as I tell you! Take it!"
Gracie turned to Sir Beverley. "I can't, can I? Tell him I can't!"
But Piers was not to be thwarted. With a sudden dive he seized the coin and without ceremony swept Gracie's hair from her shoulders and dropped it down the back of her neck.
"There!" he said, slipping his hands over her arms and holding her while she squealed and writhed. "It's quite beyond reach. You can't in decency return it now. It's no good wriggling. You won't get it up again unless you stand on your head."
"You're horrid—horrid!" protested Gracie; but she reached back and kissed him notwithstanding. "Thank you ever so much. I hope I shan't lose it. But I don't know what I shall do with it all. It's quite dreadful to think of. Please don't be cross with him!" she said to Sir Beverley. "It's—awfully—kind."
Sir Beverley smiled sardonically. "And whom are the gloves for? Some other kind youth?"