“Of course you know what my reply will be?”
“I told her you would refuse.”
“You would hardly expect me to dance with you after all I know about you, would you?” There was still that deadly quietness in her tones.
“All you think you know about me,” Bob had the courage to correct her. “Of course not.”
“Some one has taken one of my rings,” observed Miss Gerald even more quietly.
“I haven’t got it,” exclaimed Bob. “Honest!” Wasn’t he glad he had got rid of it?
The violet eyes studied Bob as if he were something strange and inanimate—an odd kind of a pebble or a shell. “You are sure?” said Miss Gwendoline.
“Positive,” answered Bob in his most confident tones. He remembered now that during his dance with the jolly little pal he had observed the monocle-man talking with Miss Gerald. Perhaps he had told her he had seen the ring in Bob’s fingers when the latter had gone to the window. The monocle-man might have been spying all the while, on the other side. There might have been two Peeping Toms interested in Bob’s actions in the billiard room.
“Are you so positive you would be willing to submit to be searched?”
“I am that positive,” Bob answered. And then went on more eagerly: “Maybe you haven’t really lost it after all.” He could say that and still tell the truth. “Why, it may be in your room now. You may find it on your table or your dresser when you go upstairs to retire.”