“I want you to take this ring”—slipping it into her fingers—“and return it to Miss Gerald’s room. You can slip in without attracting any attention. Besides no one would think anything of your going in her room, even if you were seen doing so—you’re such friends.”
“But,” she said wonderingly, “I don’t see why you took it at all if—” She broke off—“Unless that monocle-man knows you’ve got it on you?”
“That’s the point,” observed Bob hoarsely.
“All right,” she assented. “I’ll do it. When?”
“Now.”
“No,” she said firmly. “Not until our dance is over. I want every bit of it. That’s—that’s my salary. My! I feel awful wicked with that ring in my hand. You can take a firmer hold of me if you want—the way you did that first day! I need reassuring!”
Bob laughed in spite of himself, but he reassured “jolly little pal,” in the manner indicated.
“Now just fly around,” she said.
And Bob “flew” with a recklessness that satisfied even her. When it was over she turned to him with an odd look.
“I’ve got another condition.”