"You know I could not honestly take such a present!"
"Why not? You have warned me!" he still persisted.
"I think such a woman is worse than one who pays," she said disdainfully, and with an angry motion she pushed the box from her, rising.
"Miss Baxter," he said, with studied courtesy, putting the necklace back into his pocket, "it was bought for you; it will be waiting for you."
"Ah, that's what you've been leading up to!" she said sharply, a note of anger in her voice; for the love of the jewels had left an ache.
"Yes," he said frankly; "but they are yours—whenever you ask."
"Why don't you say what you want to say, Mr. Sassoon? Are you so afraid of me?" she said, looking him directly in the eyes.
"Perhaps!" he answered, pulling at his mustache. "And yet, we may as well be open, hadn't we?"
She studied him a moment, and then resumed her seat, making him a peremptory sign to continue.
"It is difficult to express, perhaps," he said—without, however, any trouble showing in his even tones. He paused and looked at his hand, stroking it with the feline motion of his fingers. Then all at once he began: