Marston laughed. "After all, I'm not so dull as some people think. You didn't want Flora to know I had brought you pearls?"
"Something like that. Why did Harry send her none?"
"It's rather puzzling," Marston replied thoughtfully. "I suggested I should take a few to Flora, but he said they were not good enough. They're not really first-class pearls, you know. Then he said they might be unlucky. The strange thing is, I think he meant it."
"Yet you brought some for me? You're honest, but you don't always use much tact, dear Bob!"
"Oh, well. We're not superstitious and I'd no grounds for thinking the pearls would bring bad luck."
"It looks as if your partner had some grounds."
"Yes," said Marston. "I don't understand the thing. For that matter, I was puzzled about other things now and then, and although I wanted to get back to you I felt shabby about coming home. Somehow I had a notion I ought to stay. After all, you let me go and would like me to finish my job."
"You're rather a dear and very staunch," Mabel remarked with a gentle smile. "Anyhow, you were ill and had done enough."
She was quiet for a time and Marston was satisfied to smoke and study her. It had got dark, but the fire was bright and touched her face while she sat still, as if lost in concentrated thought. Marston thought her beautiful and she had beauty, but her beauty was not her strongest charm.
"Bob," she remarked presently, "yours was a curious dream."