“It is a copy.”
Her face clouded; she took it with an impatient gesture and read its clauses. The lines were few, but they clearly stated that she was the sole and lawful owner of the diamond and transferred it to the keeping of the jeweler until such time as he should be repaid in full, capital and interest.
“Well, madame?” said Beaumont, having waited for five long minutes, during which she stood looking out of the window, her foot irritably beating on the carpet.
“What is there to say?” she replied bluntly, her brain was less clear than usual. “I can’t pay you, if that’s what you want.”
Beaumont raised his eyebrows.
“I conclude I have the honor of being your Grace’s first creditor, or you would have learned by painful experience that it is not well to be impolite to creditors. The situation is changed since you signed that little memorandum. I was content to wait whilst the good Duke of Otterbourne was living: but he is dead, and I am indisposed to wait, and if you cannot pay me I must see who will.”
“You beast!” muttered Mouse between her pearl like teeth.
“I do not think I am a beast,” said Beaumont meekly. “At least, not more so than most men. I took you at your word, madame, and it appears that your word was—was not entirely to be depended upon. It appears that the jewel is an heirloom; it goes to your little boy under settlement in trust. So I am informed by those competent to know.”
She stood with her profile turned toward him, and continued to look out of the window at the house opposite.
“If it is my son’s you can’t claim it,” she said sullenly. “You knew well enough at the time it wasn’t mine. You only pretended to believe that it was. You did an illegal thing when you lent me the money; and you know you can’t go into any Court about it. My husband was alive then; my signature was not worth a farthing, you know that!”