"What's that?" I asked. "Not—pawn tickets?"
"For a necklace," she said; "and this—this must be my diamond—"
"Pawned and not paid for!"
She offered me the tickets, only half understanding, her great eyes as innocent as they were lovely.
"I had forgotten," she said. "I only found them when I came to—"
She brushed the rubbish of her winter's triumphs and disappointments to the floor, and turned from it with a little, disdainful movement.
"I had to pay the maids," she said simply.
"Nelly, why—why didn't you come to me sooner?"
With a bump against the door, Clesta sidled into the room awestruck and smutched, bearing a tray.
"Miss Kitty said," she stammered, "as how I should make tea." And as soon as she had found a resting place for her burden, the frightened girl made a dash for the door.