"Tell you what, old chap," he said, as soon as he could speak. "I'm going to tell you what to do with that other stone. You save that for her."
"Her!" By Jove, I was so startled I lost the grip on my monocle. Billings nodded emphatically.
"Yes, sir—for her; she'll be along one of these days."
"By Jove, you know!" I was almost dizzy with a sudden idea. I fished out the jewel and held it before my glass, squinting doubtfully at it. I wondered if it was good enough for "her."
"I say, Billings," I murmured thoughtfully. "Blondes or brunettes, you know—which wear rubies?"
"Both!" He said it with a kind of jaw snap. "They wear anything in the jewel line they can freeze on to."
"But which—"
"The worst? Blondes, my boy—blondes, every time; especially those going around in black." Billings spoke gloomily. "Let me tell you, my boy—and I know—don't you ever have anything to do with a blonde if she's in black, especially black silk—hear?"
By Jove, his uplifted finger and fierce way of saying it gave me a regular turn, you know. But then there was the ruby, and I was thinking that—
"Perhaps the four of them in a bracelet," I muttered, "with something else to help out. They might do."