--pearls and all."

Beverley merely smiled an answer, and wondered what Roger thought of her
smile. He drew the curtain, and led her to rest, asking at the door that
she would promise to call him when she was dressed. "I want to have a
good look at you before you go downstairs," he added as he went out.

Adjoining Beverley's bedroom was a small room whose wall appeared to be
composed entirely of mirrors. It was a glorified wardrobe with mirror
doors, and light and ventilation came from above. Behind the mirror
doors were deep closets, some of which were lined with cedar, others
with sandalwood; and at the back of one was an ingeniously concealed
safe. In this safe Mrs. Roger Sands' jewels had already been placed, and
among them was the empty case which had contained the queen's pearls.
Beverley slid back the sandalwood panel, and opened the steel door
behind it, which was manipulated by a miniature time-lock.

"Suppose I wear diamonds and emeralds," she thought, "and tell Roger
they match better with my dress than the pearls--that I'll wear the
pearls another time?"

But at the best this would only postpone the evil moment.

She took off her dress of embroidered white organdie, and put on a _robe
de chambre_. Then she dropped wearily down on a great, cushiony sofa,
not to rest, but because she had nothing else to do.

It was very still in her room, save for a far-off murmur of waves below
the rocks. When she had remained thus for about three quarters of an
hour she sprang up, her brain throbbing more feverishly, her body
quivering more uncontrollably than when she had lain down. It was close
upon seven o'clock, and she rang for Leontine. Her hair had to be done,
and the whole process of dressing would need quite an hour.

"I daresay Mary Stuart took a lot of pains dressing to have her head cut
off," she thought bitterly.

Leontine came, and made ready her mistress's bath. She emptied a bottle
of eau de Cologne into the tepid water, but for once the refreshing
scent failed to revive Beverley. She was like a creature in a dream as
Leontine wound her long hair in bands round her head (a new fashion
Roger had fallen in love with a few weeks ago), fastening it here and
there with diamond pins. "Madame will be late if we are not careful,"
the Frenchwoman said. "Everything takes so long to-night." She laid on
the floor at Beverley's feet a cloud of silver gauze, supple as chiffon.
It was the new dress and Madame must s