There was mockery in Polly's tone, and in her eyes.
"You may laugh, but that's just what it was--leastways, a diamond necklace."
"Lizzie!"
"Yes, as fine a one as ever you saw--better than Maggie Sinclair's, and they say hers is worth a thousand."
"It wasn't meant for you."
"Wasn't it? There it was upon the parcel as plain as print, 'Miss Lizzie Emmett, 14 Hercules Buildings, Westminster,' and inside there was the fellow's card--'With Mr Jack Smith's compliments.'"
"What? Lizzie! Where is it?"
"It's where it ought to be--with her as Mr Jack Smith ought to marry."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Why, Polly, it's like a story, just like it is in the books. Who do you think's been here this morning? In this very room?"