As the two men lifted Molly into the back seat, she noticed for the first time that she was wearing a man’s overcoat. It was dark blue and felt warm and comfortable. She slipped her hands into the deep pockets and snuggled down into its folds. Certainly she felt shivery about the spine, and her hands and feet, which were never known to be warm, were now like lumps of ice. As the doctor was still wearing his great coat of Scotch tweed, it was evidently the coat of the Professor of English Literature she had appropriated.
“It’s awfully good of you to lend me your coat,” she said to Professor Green, who was standing at the side of the carriage while the doctor climbed in beside her. “I’m afraid you’ll take cold without it.”
“Nonsense,” he said, almost gruffly, “I’m not dressed in cheesecloth.”
“But I have on a white sweater under all this,” said Molly timidly.
The carriage drove away, however, without his saying another word, and later that afternoon, after Molly had taken a nap and felt rested and refreshed, she engaged one of the maids at Queen’s cottage to return Professor Green’s overcoat with a message of thanks. Then, with a sigh of relief, because when she had borrowed anything it always weighed heavily on her mind, and because she felt somehow that the Professor was provoked with her, she turned over and went to sleep again.
Just as the clock in the chapel tower sounded midnight she sat up in bed.
“What is it, Molly, dear?” asked Nance, who was wakeful and uneasy about her friend.
Molly was looking at her right hand wildly.
“The ring!” she cried. “Judith’s emerald ring—it’s gone!”
The ring was indeed gone. Neither of her friends had seen it on her finger since she had been in her room.