"A thief?" she supplied as he hesitated.
"A thief," he assented gravely.
"But I—I am," with a break in her voice.
"But you are not," he asserted almost fiercely. And, "Dear," he said boldly, "don't you suppose I know?"
"I … what do you know?"
"That you brought back the jewels, for one minor thing. I found them almost as soon as you had left. And then I knew … knew that you cared enough to get them from this fellow Anisty and bring them back to me, knew that I cared enough to search the world from end to end until I found you, that you might wear them—if you would."
But she had drawn away, had averted her face; and he might not see it; and she shivered slightly, staring out of the window at the passing lights. He saw, and perforce paused.
"You—you don't understand," she told him in a rush. "You give me credit beyond my due. I didn't break into your flat again, to-night, in order to return the jewels—at least, not for that alone."
"But you did bring back the jewels?"
She nodded.