Although Aileen feared because of his desperateness, she was caught by his sleek force—that air of iron strength under a parlor mask. His long, brown, artistic hands, hard and muscular, indicated an idle force that might be used in many ways. They harmonized with his teeth and chin.
“So you came, didn’t you?” he went on, looking at her steadily, while she fronted his gaze boldly for a moment, only to look evasively down.
He still studied her carefully, looking at her chin and mouth and piquant nose. In her colorful cheeks and strong arms and shoulders, indicated by her well-tailored suit, he recognized the human vigor he most craved in a woman. By way of diversion he ordered an old-fashioned whisky cocktail, urging her to join him. Finding her obdurate, he drew from his pocket a little box.
“We agreed when we played the other night on a memento, didn’t we?” he said. “A sort of souvenir? Guess?”
Aileen looked at it a little nonplussed, recognizing the contents of the box to be jewelry. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” she protested. “The understanding was that we were to win. You lost, and that ended the bargain. I should have shared the losses. I haven’t forgiven you for that yet, you know.”
“How ungallant that would make me!” he said, smilingly, as he trifled with the long, thin, lacquered case. “You wouldn’t want to make me ungallant, would you? Be a good fellow—a good sport, as they say. Guess, and it’s yours.”
Aileen pursed her lips at this ardent entreaty.
“Oh, I don’t mind guessing,” she commented, superiorly, “though I sha’n’t take it. It might be a pin, it might be a set of ear-rings, it might be a bracelet—”
He made no comment, but opened it, revealing a necklace of gold wrought into the form of a grape-vine of the most curious workmanship, with a cluster of leaves artistically carved and arranged as a breastpiece, the center of them formed by a black opal, which shone with an enticing luster. Lynde knew well enough that Aileen was familiar with many jewels, and that only one of ornate construction and value would appeal to her sense of what was becoming to her. He watched her face closely while she studied the details of the necklace.
“Isn’t it exquisite!” she commented. “What a lovely opal—what an odd design.” She went over the separate leaves. “You shouldn’t be so foolish. I couldn’t take it. I have too many things as it is, and besides—” She was thinking of what she would say if Cowperwood chanced to ask her where she got it. He was so intuitive.