Owen had given her a clasp, composed of two large emerald bosses set with curious antique gems, when she played Brunnhilde.  The necklace of gem intaglios, in gold Etruscan filigree settings, he had given her for her Elsa—­more than her Elsa was worth.  For Elizabeth he had given her ropes of equal-sized pearls, and the lustre of the surfaces was considered extraordinary.  For Isolde he had given her strings of black pearls which the jewellers of Europe had been collecting for more than a year.  Every pearl had the same depth of colour, and hanging from it was a large black brilliant set in a mass of white brilliants.  He had hung it round her neck as she went on the stage, and she had had only time to clasp his hands and say “dearest.”  These presents alone, she thought, could not be worth less than ten thousand pounds.

She kept her jewels in a small iron safe; it stood in her dressing-room under her washhand stand, and Merat surprised her two hours later sitting on her bed, with everything, down to the rings which she wore daily, spread over the counterpane.  The maid gave her mistress a sharp look, remarking that she hoped Mademoiselle did not miss anything.  In her hand there was a brooch consisting of three large emeralds set with diamonds; she often wore it at the front of her dress, it went particularly well with a flowered silk which Owen always admired.  She calculated the price it would fetch, and at the same time was convinced that Monsignor’s permission to sing on the concert platform, and possibly to go to Bayreuth to sing Kundry, would not affect her decision.  She wanted to leave the stage.  Half-measures did not appeal to her in the least.  If she was to give up the stage, she must give it up wholly.  It must be a thing over and done with, or she must remain on the stage and sing for the good of Art and her lovers.  Since that was no longer possible, she preferred never to sing a note again in public.  The worst wrench of all was her promise to Monsignor not to sing Grania, and since she had made that sacrifice, she could not dally with lesser things.  Then, resuming her search among her jewellery, she selected the few things she would like to keep.  She examined a cameo brooch set in filigree gold, ornamented with old rose diamonds, and she picked up a strange ring which a man whom Owen knew had taken from the finger of a mummy.  It was a large emerald set in plain gold.  A man who had been present at the unswathing of this princess, dead at least three thousand years, had managed to secure it, and Owen had paid him a large sum for it.  She put it on her finger, and decided to keep a dozen other rings, the earrings she wore, and a few bracelets.  The rest of her jewellery she would sell, if Owen refused to have them back.  Of course there would be her teaching; she could not live in Dulwich doing nothing, and would take up her mother’s singing classes....