She shook her head. "Oh, no! It's among my mother's things. It must have been taken years ago. You were very handsome—in those days, weren't you?"
"Was I?" said Sir Kersley.
"Yes. That's why I kept you. There was a bit of your hair with it, but I burnt that." Violet's brows knitted suddenly. "My mother was handsome too," she said. "I wonder why you jilted her!"
Sir Kersley made a slight movement, so slight that it seemed almost involuntary. "That, my child," he said quietly, "is a very old story."
She laughed her gay, winning laugh. "Oh, of course! I expect you have jilted dozens since then. It's the way of the world, isn't it?"
He looked into the exquisite face, still faintly smiling. "It's not my way," he said.
There fell a sudden silence, and Olga sent an appealing glance towards Max. He came forward instantly and clapped a practical hand upon his friend's shoulder.
"Come and have a wash, Kersley!" he said, and with characteristic decision marched him away.
As they went, Violet broke once more into the low, sweet refrain of her
Spanish love-song.