The colour surged up all over her fair face. She began to pluck restlessly at her fan. But she said no word. Only as he took it gravely from her, she glanced up as though compelled, and for a single instant sheer panic looked at him out of her eyes.
"My dear," he said, "will you attend to the matter to-morrow?"
But still she was silent, quiveringly, piteously silent. The colour had gone out of her face now; she was as white as the dress she wore.
"You will?" he said gently.
She made a little sound that was like a repressed sob, and put her hand sharply to her throat.
"You will?" he said again.
"Yes," she whispered.
He dismissed the matter instantly, opened the fan he had taken from her, and began to admire it.
"Jack gave it to me," she said. "It's a birthday present. He always gives me nice things. So do you, Trevor. Your pendant is the loveliest thing I have ever seen."
He had sent her a pendant of turquoise and pearl, and it hung upon her neck at the moment. She fingered it lovingly.