Watching her, I drew the ring out and laid it on my palm. She took a step nearer, and stood looking at the bauble, and I saw her breath come quickly and her eyes dilate. We were both silent; after a moment she looked up into my face.
“Whence came it?” she asked in a low voice.
I shrugged my shoulders and laughed.
“Mademoiselle, you press me too closely with questions,” I said quietly, “but you know the ring?”
She put out her hand to take it, but I evaded her.
“Give it to me, M. le Maréchal,” she said petulantly; “lend it to me, if only for a day.”
“No, no, mademoiselle,” I said lightly. “It was only lent to me. I cannot take the risk.”
She looked at me like a wilful child, but I saw the tigress gleaming in her eyes.
“I beg it of you, monsieur,” she said passionately, “I—who never sue for favors. I pray you give me this ring for a day, for an hour.”
“Not for a moment, mademoiselle,” I replied, returning it to my breast. “I have been your friend to-night, but I cannot give you this. I must remember the person who gave it to me.”