"Charlie, have they taken your money too? Are you aware, sir, how hungry I am?"
He did not turn when he heard her voice. He continued motionless, looking at the contents of the bag. She advanced towards him and saw what he was looking at. Then he turned and they were face to face.
He never knew what was the fashion of his countenance. He could not have analysed his feelings to save his life. But, as he looked at her, his wife of yesterday, the woman whom he loved, she seemed to shrivel up before his eyes, and sank upon the floor. There was silence. Then she made a little gesture towards him with her two hands. She fell forward, hiding her face on the ground at his feet, prisoning his legs with her arms.
"How came these things into your bag?"
He did not know his own voice, it was so dry and harsh. She made no answer.
"Did you steal them?"
Still silence. He felt a sort of rage rising within him.
"There are one or two questions you must answer. I am sorry to have to put them; it is not my fault. You had better get up from the floor."
She never moved. For his life he could not have touched her.
"I suppose--." He was choked, and paused. "I suppose that woman's jewels are some of these?"