The room which they entered was evidently his own study. It was full of books and papers, untidy and dingy looking, like the haunts of most men where the housemaid is forbidden. Through this he passed by an inner door to a smaller room, with two windows—one south, one west.
It was scantily furnished, but might have been pretty if artistically arranged. She glanced round. There was a second door. A room which she could neither enter nor leave without passing through his would be a poor boon. He pushed her down upon a sofa, seated himself beside her, and laid the little pile of rings upon her knee. Without speaking, he took her left hand in his own, and began fitting the rings one after another. All were too large, except a fine half-hoop of emeralds.
"That for the present," said he, "and we can have some others altered. Which do you like next best?"
"I do not like to wear any of them," she answered faintly. His shoulder was touching her own, and her terror grew with each moment.
"You are obstinate," he said, with a scowl.
She shook her head. "It is not a question of what I like, so why pretend that it is? I will do anything that you say I must," she murmured, so low that he could hardly hear.
"Well, then, I say you must choose another ring." She turned them over listlessly. "This," said she at last, taking a single diamond.
"Good!" He gathered up the rest. Then, to her utter relief, he rose. "I will make it into a packet for the post," said he.
"Oh! That reminds me!" She was suddenly eager. "Please tell me, have you a second post here?"
"Yes. It will be in soon—about an hour's time."