I
Grace was keenly disappointed at receiving no letter from Trenton the next day. She canvassed all possible explanations of this first lapse in their correspondence. Whatever might be the cause she decided not to write until she heard from him again. She passed an unhappy morning and was relieved when Irene asked her to go to lunch. It was possible that Irene might have some news of Trenton, as he and Kemp were constantly in touch with each other.
“Tell me I look perfectly all right—just as though nothing had happened,” Irene remarked when they had given their order.
“Well, if you want to know, you’re just a trifle paler than usual; but I’d never have noticed it. What’s the trouble?”
Irene answered by holding out her left hand.
“The emerald is no more! Oh, I haven’t sent it back! I’ve just stuck it down in the bottom of a drawer with a lot of other old junk. It’s all over, my dear.”
“You and Tommy have quit!” Grace exclaimed.
“Finished, quit—whatever you like. You’ll remember I told you such things can’t last. Please don’t think I wasn’t prepared! But to a certain extent Tommy did fool me. I thought he really cared for me and I won’t deny that I thought a lot of him.”
“This is certainly a surprise,” Grace remarked, noting signs of dejection in the usually placid Irene that had previously escaped her.
“Well, I got a line on him a few days ago. It’s a small world and things have a way of getting round.”