"Heaps!"
He put his hand under the pillow and drew something out. He held it a moment in his hand, his fist closed over it.
"My present."
"Really?" she said, clasping her hands.
He watched her hungrily, devouring every fugitive flash of youth and beauty. Then he held up a ring, a diamond flanked by two rubies, in an old setting.
"It's been in the family—long time. My mother's," he said.
But Dodo, drawing back, confused, touched, resisted.
"Oh, no! I couldn't! It's much too valuable. Please, please don't ask it!"
"Too valuable?" he said, with a touch of anger. "For you? Give me your hand—left, please!"