Could this be true? Was this a friend who warned him, he thought. He remembered the pretty little ring perfectly.
The jealous pang that had been tearing at his heart for days grew sharper than ever.
He knew his wife did not love him yet, but he had fondly hoped to win her heart in time.
If what the writer of that anonymous letter said was true, then it was vain to hope any longer.
"A former lover whom she still adored." Oh! God, could that be true?
"I will test her," he said to himself. "No one shall poison my mind against my beautiful wife without a cause. 'I will put it to the test and win or lose it all.'"
He went to a jeweler's that morning and came back with a little box in his vest-pocket.
Then he asked Bonnibel if she would walk down to the seashore with him.
She complied with a gentle smile, and he found her a shady seat a little off from the crowd, where they could talk uninterrupted.
She laid down her parasol, and removing her delicate gloves folded her white hands listlessly together.