“And suppose I refuse?” Janet drew her furs about her, and flung back her head defiantly. Her blood was up.
“You will do nothing so foolish.”
“I shall, too.” Janet’s eyes blazed back into his. “And I want you to understand that our engagement is broken.”
Barnard’s smile was his only answer as he contemplated her, and despite the warmth of the room and her furs, Janet felt a chill strike to her heart, and the pupils of her eyes distended with fear as Barnard bent toward her across the table.
“Pauline Calhoun-Cooper has missed her bracelet,” he said quietly.
Janet crimsoned; then turned deathly pale. Fearing she would faint, Barnard raised his tea-spoon and struck his empty goblet until the glass vibrated loudly. While waiting for the waitress, he again addressed his silent companion.
“Do you still wish our engagement broken?”
“No,” faintly.
“You will drop Tom Nichols?” Getting no answer, he repeated his question with more insistence.
“Yes,” she promised; but the monosyllable was even fainter and more reluctant than the first.