glimmer of light! She wondered if her obsession was all her own--or
did it reach to one of them? Certainly not Ella; not Judge Buller,
settled into his collar, choosing champagnes. Clara? She had to skip
Clara. One never knew whether Clara had not more behind her smooth
prettiness than ever she brought to light. Kerr? Perhaps. With him she
felt potentialities enormous. Harry? Never. Harry was being appealed to
by all the women who could get at him as to his part in the affair--what
had been his sensations and emotions? But Flora knew perfectly well he
had had none. He was only oppressed by the attention his fame in the
matter, and the central position of their table, brought upon him.
Protesting, he made his part as small as possible.

"Oh, confound it, if I can't get at my oysters!" he complained, leaning
back into his group again with a sigh.

"You divide the honors with the mysterious unknown, eh?" Kerr inquired
across the table.

"Hang it, there's no division! I'd offer you a share!" Harry laughed,
and it occurred to Flora how much Kerr could have made of it.

"Purdie'd like to share something," Buller vouchsafed. "He's been pawing
the air ever since Crew cabled, and this has blown him up completely."

"Crew?" Flora wondered. Here was something more happening. Crew? She had
not heard that name before. It made a stir among them all; but if Kerr
looked sharp, Clara looked sharper. She looked at Harry and Harry was
vexed.

"Who's Crew?" said Ella; and the judge looked around on the silence.

"Why, bless my soul, isn't it--Oh, anyway, it will all be out to-morrow.
But I thought Harry'd told you. The Chatworth ring wasn't Bessie's."

It had the effect of startling them all apart, and then drawing them
closer together again around the table over the uncorked bottles.

"Why," Judge Buller went on, "this ring is a celebrated thing. It's the
'Crew Idol'!" He threw the name out as if that in itself explained
everything, but the three women, at least, were blank.

"Why celebrated?" Clara objected. "The stones were only sapphires."

Kerr smiled at this measure of fame.

"Quite so," he nodded to her, "but there are several sorts of value
about that ring. Its age, for one."

He had the attention of the table, as if they sensed behind his words
more even than Judge Buller could have told them.

"And then the superstition about it. It's rather a pretty tale," said
Kerr, looking at Flora. "You've seen the ring--a figu