"Fine!"
"I'll be right back."
He heard her speed down the stairs and listened to her step in the room below.
Then there was silence.
A few moments later she came racing back, white and breathless.
"They're gone!" she cried. "The place is empty! The jewels are not there!"
Her terror and the fear lest her pallor foreshadowed collapse produced in Heath that artificial calm one sometimes sees when a strong nature reins itself in and calls upon its reserve control.
Marcia had fallen to her knees beside the bed and buried her face, trembling with agitation.
The man thought only of how to quiet her. Reaching out, he touched her hair.
"Hush, Marcia. The jewels will be found. Don't give way like this. I cannot bear to see you. The whole lot of them are not worth your tears."