“Do you really care?” she asked, speaking very low.

I nodded.  I did care, somehow.

“Enough to stand by me, if I don’t go?”

I nodded again.

“I daren’t refuse right out.  My mother and he—­”

She broke off.

“Have something the matter with you:  flutters or something,” I suggested.

The ghost of a smile appeared on her face.

“You’ll stay?” she asked.

I had to stay, anyhow.  Perhaps I ought to have said so, and not stolen credit; but all I did was to nod again.

“And, if I ask you, you’ll—­you’ll stand between me and him?”

I hoped that my meeting with the duke would not be in a strong light; but I only said: 

“Rather!  I’ll do anything I can, of course.”

She did not thank me; she looked at me again.  Then she observed.

“My mother will be back soon.”

“And I had better not be here?”

“No.”

I advanced to the table again, and laid my hand on the box containing the Cardinal’s necklace.

“And this?” I asked in a careless tone.

“Ought I to send them back?”

“You don’t want to?”

“What’s the use of saying I do?  I love them.  Besides, he’ll see through it.  He’ll know that I mean I won’t come.  I daren’t—­I daren’t show him that!”

Then I made a little venture; for, fingering the box idly, I said: 

“It would be uncommonly handsome of you to give ’em to the duchess.”

“To the duchess?” she gasped in wondering tones.

“You see,” I remarked, “either they are the duchess’, in which case she ought to have them; or, if they were the duke’s, they’re yours now; and you can do what you like with them.”

“He gave them me on—­on a condition.”

“A condition,” said I, “no gentleman could mention, and no law enforce.”

She blushed scarlet, but sat silent.

“Revenge is sweet,” said I.  “She ran away rather than meet you.  You send her her diamonds!”

A sudden gleam shot into Marie Delhasse’s eyes.

“Yes,” she said, “yes.”  And stopped, thinking, with her hands clasped.

“You send them by me,” I pursued, delighted with the impression which my suggestion had made upon her.

“By you?  You see her, then?” she asked quickly.

“Occasionally,” I answered.  The duchess’ secret was not mine, and I did not say where I saw her.

“I’ll give them to you,” said Marie—­“to you, not to the duchess.”

“I won’t have ’em at any price,” said I.  “Come, your mother will be back soon.  I believe you want to keep ’em.”  And I assumed a disgusted air.

“I don’t!” she flashed out passionately.  “I don’t want to touch them!  I wouldn’t keep them for the world!”

I looked at my watch.  With a swift motion, Marie Delhasse leaped from her chair, dashed down the lid of the box, hiding the glitter of the stones, seized the box in her two hands and with eyes averted held it out to me.