She reddened still more deeply; but spoke with a frank charm. "You thought I was rich? Well, of course I ought to be. My father was rich. But at present I have nothing of my own--nothing! It is all in trust--and I can't get at it. But I _must_ have some money! Wait here a moment!" She ran out of the room. When she came back she was carrying a miscellaneous armful of jewellers' cases. She threw them down on the sofa. "They are all hideous--but I am sure they're worth a great deal of money." And she opened them with hasty fingers before his astonished eyes. In his restless existence he had accumulated various odd veins of knowledge, and he knew something of the jewelry trade of London. He had not only drawn designs, he had speculated--unluckily--in "De Beers." For a short time Diamonds had been an obsession with him, then Burmah rubies. He had made money out of neither; it was not in his horoscope to make money out of anything. However there was the result--a certain amount of desultory information. He took up one piece after another, presently drawing a magnifying glass out of his pocket to examine them the better. "Well, if you want money--" he said at last, putting down a _riviere_ which had belonged to Delia's mother--"That alone will give you some thousands!" Delia's eyes danced with satisfaction--then darkened. "That was Mamma's. Papa bought it at Constantinople--from an old Turkish Governor--who had robbed a province--spent the loot in Paris on his wives--and then had to disgorge half his fortune--to the Sultan--who got wind of it. Papa bought it at a great bargain, and was awfully proud of it. But after Mamma died, he sent it to the Bank, and never thought of it again. I couldn't wear it, of course--I was too young." "How much money do you want?" "Oh, a few thousands," said Delia, vaguely. "Five hundred pounds, first of all." "And who will sell them for you?" She frowned in perplexity. "I--I don't know." "You don't wish to ask Mr. Winnington?" "Certainly not! They have nothing to do with him. They are my own personal property," she added proudly. "Still he might object--Ought you not to ask him?" "I shall not tell him!" She straightened her shoulders. "He has far too much bother on my account already." "Of course, if I could do anything for you--I should be delighted. But I don't know why you should trust me. You don't know anything about me!" He laughed uncomfortably. Delia laughed too--in some confusion. It seemed to him she suddenly realised she had done something unusual. "It is very kind of you to suggest it--" she said, hesitating.