She saw at once that to fence with him further was out of the question. Quite plainly he meant to bring her to book. But she felt painfully unequal to the ordeal before her. She was conscious of an almost physical sense of shrinking.
Nevertheless, as he waited, she nerved herself at length to speak.
"What makes you think that something happened?"
"It is fairly obvious, is it not?" he returned quietly. "I could not very easily think otherwise. If you will allow me to say so, your device was not quite subtle enough to pass muster. Even had you dropped that bangle by inadvertence—which you did not—you would not, in the ordinary course of things, have sent me off post haste to recover it."
"No?" she questioned, with a faint attempt to laugh.
"No," he rejoined, and this time she heard a note of anger, deep and unmistakable, in his voice.
She drew herself together as it reached her. It was to be a battle, then, and instinctively she knew that she would need all her strength.
"Well," she said finally, affecting an assurance she was far from feeling, "I have no objection to your knowing what happened since you have asked. In fact, perhaps,—as you suggest,—it is scarcely fair that you should not know."
"Thank you," he responded, with a hint of irony.
But she found it difficult to begin, and she could not hide it from him, for he was closely watching her.