'I am not a fool.'
'Is it possible that anyone ever mistook you for one?'
Mr Cox dug him with his elbow in the ribs, by way of a hint to him to hold his tongue. Miss Casata went contemptuously on,--
'I perceive now that she laughed because she knew that he had not taken with him what he supposed; but what I do not understand is, where, then, is the ring? I know she kept it in this box.'
She examined minutely the one she held. Mr Cox put a question to Mr Burton.
'For the last time, Burton, I suppose you're quite sure that it's not your uncle's ring? Nice we should look if it was afterwards discovered that you had made a mistake.'
'Don't be a silly ass! How many more times do you want to hear me swear? I say, Cox, have you two legs, or four, and which end of you are they? I might just as reasonably put such questions to you. I tell you, I know.'
Miss Casata was still continuing her scrutiny.
'It is not the ring; you are right. It is not the ring which she used to keep in the box. The stone in that, I think, was larger. It had a crest on it, I remember. And inside there was a name engraved, "George Burton." She showed it me one day, and she said, "I shall have to have this stone remounted. I cannot wear a man's name upon my finger, especially that man's name." I remember very well. Oh, no, this is not the ring at all.'
Mr Burton turned in triumph to Mr Cox. 'You hear? Now, who's right?'