“That is the arrangement, certainly,” I said, with a cold smile.
“The little place where you have hidden your jewels, you droll Cesare, is quite near then?” she asked.
“Quite near,” I assented, watching her closely.
She laughed and clapped her hands.
“Oh, I must have them,” she exclaimed. “It would be ridiculous to go to Paris without them. But why will you not get them yourself, Cesare, and bring them here to me?”
“There are so many,” I returned, quietly, “and I do not know which you would prefer. Some are more valuable than others. And it will give me a special satisfaction—one that I have long waited for—to see you making your own choice.”
She smiled half shyly, half cunningly.
“Perhaps I will make no choice,” she whispered, “perhaps I will take them all, Cesare. What will you say then?”
“That you are perfectly welcome to them,” I replied.
She looked slightly surprised.