"Say no more," she whispered. "I am ashamed of myself."
Geoffrey kissed the quivering red lips passionately.
"Spoken like my own, Vera," he said. "Now I will give you my word of honor——"
"No, no. It is not necessary, Geoff. I was foolish. I might have known better. Not another thought will I give to Mrs. Mona May."
Vera spoke in all sincerity. But our thoughts are often our masters and they were so in this case. Mona May was a name graven on Vera's mind, and the time was coming when with fervent gratitude she blessed the hour when she had found that letter.
CHAPTER XX A FASCINATING WOMAN
Mrs. Jessop's simple parlor had been transformed beyond recognition. The fine Chippendale furniture had been brought forward; the gaudy settees and sofas had been covered with fine, Eastern silks and tapestries. A pair of old Dresden candlesticks stood on the table, and under pink shades the candles cast a glamor of subdued light upon damask and silver and china.
As Geoffrey was ushered in Mrs. May came forward. She was dressed entirely in black, her wonderfully fine arms and shoulders gleamed dazzling almost as the diamonds that were as frosty stars in the glorious night of her hair. One great red bloom of some flower unknown to Geoffrey was in her breast. As to the rest, the flowers were all scarlet. The effect was slightly dazzling.