She drew it from her purse, and handed it to him, wondering why he required it.
“This reminds you of him, I know,” he said, as he turned and threw up the window. “See, I fling it away, for it’s merely a worthless bond,” and he tossed the ring as far as he could out into the road.
Valérie sighed. A tear stood in her eye. Even at that moment she was thinking of Hugh Trethowen. It was unusual for her to be troubled by recurring pangs of conscience, nevertheless his face had haunted her constantly during the past few months, and she could not get rid of the thought that some day a terrible Nemesis might fall and crush her.
“Why look so serious?”
“I was only thinking. It is one of woman’s privileges,” she said, laughing.
“Come, there is no cause for sadness surely. You have a handsome income. What more could you desire?”
Soon afterwards the unsuspecting guests departed, with aching heads and empty pockets. And Valérie was left alone.