Sylvia slipped one of her strong young arms about the bowed shoulders.
"It just seems as if I could not bear it," she burst out passionately.
"Sylvia, look at me. Tell me the truth. Do you, too, love Stanley Heath?"
"I?"
"Was that the reason you fought against Elisha's finding the jewels? Tell me. I must know."
"No," she answered without hesitation. "At first he did fascinate me. He is a fascinating person. An older man always fascinates a younger girl if he has charm. I changed my mind, though, later on. Not because on acquaintance he became less charming. It wasn't that. If anything, he became more so. I just—just—changed my mind," she repeated, avoiding Marcia's eyes. "As for the jewels, I could not bear to let that little runt of a sheriff win out. You see, I thought the gems were there under the brick and that when you urged him to search, you did not know it.
"I had known all along they were in the house, for I stumbled upon them by accident one day when I was here alone; but I had no idea you had. I truly believed Mr. Heath had hidden them beneath the hearth, and I was determined Elisha should not find them."
"I knew they weren't there."
"You'd moved them? Put them somewhere else?"
"No, indeed. Didn't you hear me tell Elisha I did not know where they were?"