n
his listener, when she had only married him for his coin?

It appeared he had given her such counsel as his worldly experience
suggested. He told her to get Phil to take her up to London now and
again for a change. He advised her to stand no nonsense from anybody,
pointing out to her that she was the future Lady Heredith, and, within
limits, could do practically what she liked.

These intimate details of the confidences between them brought Nepcote
to the vital point of his possession of the necklace. He now admitted
that his former story was untrue. The actual truth was that he had
needed some money badly for his gambling debts. He told Violet of his
position, and asked her had she any money to lend him. She had not, and
rather than ask Phil, she had, for old friendship's sake, offered him
her necklace to raise money on, or to sell outright the diamond in the
clasp. He accepted her offer, and went up to London on the following day
to try and sell the diamond. Wendover's card had been given to him by a
brother officer in France as that of a man who gave a good price for
jewels without asking too many questions. But the diamond merchant had
not lived up to his reputation. He had refused to look at the diamond.
He had been horribly rude, treating him as though he was a pickpocket,
and had practically ordered him out of his office. In fact, his whole
attitude was so suspicious that Nepcote decided it would be better to
leave his gambling debts owing than run the risk of trying to raise
money on a married woman's jewels. He returned to the moat-house,
leaving the necklace locked in his desk at his flat.

At this point Nepcote ceased speaking again, interrupted by a paroxysm
of coughing, and when it passed his eyes turned towards the window, as
though he were listening to the gentle patter of rain on the panes. For
a space the two men sat with no sound in the room except Nepcote's
laboured breathing. When he did resume he spoke with a quickened
emphasis, like a man aware that he was entering upon the part of his
narrative most incredible of belief.

"It happened three nights later," he said. "I was in my room writing
some letters before retiring, when I heard a light and hurried tap at my
door. When I opened it Violet was standing there. She stepped quickly
inside. Before I could express my opinion of her reckless foolishness
she burst into passionate sobs and reproaches. It was all my fault--that
was the burden of her