“I wish I had the whole world to offer you!”
“You are not joking?” she went on, in a voice husky with too great satisfaction.
“Will you accept only my diamond?”
“You will never take it back?” she insisted.
“Never.”
She put the ring on her finger. Martial, confident of coming happiness, was about to put his hand round her waist, but she suddenly rose, and said in a clear voice, without any agitation:
“I accept the diamond, monsieur, with the less scruple because it belongs to me.”
The Baron was speechless.
“Monsieur de Soulanges took it lately from my dressing-table, and told me he had lost it.”
“You are mistaken, madame,” said Martial, nettled. “It was given me by Madame de Vaudremont.”