not budge. Come now, this is the end. I never
meant to do another thing."

She covered her face with her hands.

"Come, come." His voice was urging her, now very gentle. "It's more for
your sake than for the jewel now." And his arm around her shoulders was
gently forcing her to walk beside him not toward the drive, but away
into the tree-grown sheltered wing of the garden. By interlacing paths,
from the tremulous gray willows under the somber, clashing eucalyptus
spears, under dark wings of cypress they were moving. She was bracing in
every nerve against the unnerving of his presence.

It had been always so. Even across the distance of a room the mere sight
of him had had for her the power to summon those wild spirits of the
soul and body that turn reason to a vapor. And now so close, with his
arm around her, that same power she had felt when she saw him first, the
power that had made her come out and be herself then, the power that
had overwhelmed her in the little restaurant, was leagued against her
again to make her do this one more thing, which she wouldn't do. Never,
never! Despairing, she wondered that such an evil motive could have such
strength.

"Where have you got it now?" she heard him asking, and she pointed
downward toward where the pouch at her knee was swinging to and fro.
"Take it up, then," and like a hypnotized creature she gathered it into
her hand. But, once she had it, she held it clenched against him.

"You're going to give it to me," he prompted, "aren't you?--aren't you?"
and looking steadily in her face his hand shut softly on her wrist, and
held out her clenched hand in front of her. And still they walked,
slowly. Like a pendulum the long gold chain swung from her clenched
fingers. To the tree-top birds they seemed as quiet as two lovers
speaking of their wedding-day. She felt her tension give way in this
quiet--her hand relax.

"Dearest." The word brought up her eyes to his with a start of
tenderness. "Open it," he said, and her hand, involuntarily, sprung the
pouch wide. They stared together into it. The little hollow golden shell
was empty.

For a moment it held her incredulous. Then, faint and sick, all the
foundations of her faith reeling, she slowly raised her eyes to him in
accusation. She was not ready for the terrible sternness in his.

"Have you lied to me?" he asked in a low voice. "Have you given it to
Cressy?"

"No, no, no!" she cried in horror. "It was there! I put it t