Who could be as devilish as Colin, she found herself thinking, but who had such charm? One moment he would sneer and mock, the next he had dropped all that and without intention and certainly without effort he was like a boy again, making plans and having secrets with her. Often during this last week or two that enchanting side of him had popped out unawares. One moment his mouth would be full of veiled insults and scarcely veiled hostilities, the next, as now, he would be eager and pleasant.... More particularly had she observed this when he was with Dennis; though she knew that in his heart he had contemplated the boy’s initiation into all that was evil, she could not believe that it was not from his heart that, every now and then, there came up the impulse that made that soft light in his eye, that tenderness on his mouth. Could it be possible that he was getting to love Dennis? After all there had been that moment’s jealousy (of that she made no doubt) when he had seen Dennis and her together. Was that the grain of mustard-seed? Poor little seed, if it was: it would find poisoned soil and corrosive moisture for its growth. “I’ll get you the stone,” she said. “It’s in the safe in my bedroom wall.” Colin perched himself on the arm of the sofa where she sat. “Oh, there’s no hurry,” he said. “Let’s have five minutes’ chat. I haven’t seen you all this week, and I haven’t told you what an incomparable hostess you’ve been. I always recognize merit, Vi, and you’ve been most meritorious. The sapphire now: there is something queer about that stone. Pearls always shine with you like moons, but the sapphire gets as stale as a piece of mildew. It’s because it was old Colin’s, I believe. His getting it seems to me his most remarkable achievement. He can never have been more hugely inspired than when he made that stingy old woman give it him. All else that she had given him, his Garter, his estates, cost her nothing. But fancy getting her to part with something that was hers, and that was worth a ransom. And you can’t look at it without seeing there’s something in it you don’t understand.” She laughed. “You speak as if there was something magical about it,” she said. “Well, why shouldn’t there be? I’m not such a shallow ass as not to believe in the supernatural. And the whole point of the supernatural is that you can’t understand it. If you could understand it, it wouldn’t be supernatural.” Suddenly he appeared to forget about the stone altogether. “I want to ask you something,” he said. “Did Dennis by any chance tell you that about a week ago he had the most awful nightmare?” “Yes.” “Then tell me exactly what he said.” Violet thought a moment.