“Why not? I mean it to be,” answered Rowton.
“Those tiresome burglars who are hovering round the neighbourhood had better not get wind of it,” continued Lady Georgina. “If they do, they are certain to have a try for this house and its treasures.”
“I am afraid that fact will not prevent Nance from wearing her husband’s present,” said the master of the Heights in a careless tone. “It sends out queer rays, does it not?—rays not of day but night.”
“Adrian, I am half afraid of it,” said Nance.
She put up her hand, took the pin from her hair, and looked at the sparkling dark gem with a frightened expression on her face.
“You poor dear little mass of superstition,” said Rowton; “what can there be to frighten you in your husband’s present?”
“Not in your present,” she answered, “only I wish it were not black.”
“Wear it for my sake, sweetheart,” he said. “I have taken a fancy to it. It has a queer incomprehensible look. You take my fancy in it.” He sank his voice as he spoke until it thrilled with suppressed passion.
“Then I will wear it gladly for you,” she said in as low a whisper.
Lady Georgina turned and walked to the window.