Not only was Marcia ignorant of Heath's true character but also that the jewels lay concealed close at hand. She would receive an overwhelming shock if the proof of his guilt came upon her in this brutal fashion.
Did she not believe in him? Love him?
It was for Marcia Sylvia was fighting, not Heath—Marcia whom she adored and whom she was determined to save from Elisha's power at any cost.
If after the two meddling officials had gone she could be convinced that the hero on whom her heart was set was unworthy, that was matter for later discussion.
All that was of import now was to defend him; shield him from discovery; give him the chance for escape.
It was at the moment she reached this decision that Marcia's voice, calm and unwavering, broke upon the stillness:
"If you are so certain about the jewels, Elisha, why don't you produce them?" she was saying.
"No—no, Marcia!" Sylvia protested. "There is nothing here, Mr. Winslow, truly there is nothing. I swear it."
"Nevertheless, let him look, Sylvia."