After a few minutes Robert went into the adjoining room, and returned, carrying a large leather box. He set it upon a small table, near the toilet, and opened it with a key attached to his watch-chain. Then he took from it several cases, which he arranged symmetrically on the dressing-table, opening each, and displaying its contents. "Yes," he murmured; "I am sure it was in just such order they lay that night when she put on the bracelet when I asked her, and put her hand in mine. The amethysts here, and the opal cross beside the pincushion, and the diamonds there." And he placed them as he spoke. The diamond serpent came to his hand last, and he held it, turning it to the light and watching the flashes of rich colour which gleamed from the gems. Then he replaced it in its satin case, and laid it upon the stand of the toilet-mirror. "Yes, my darling," he murmured, "they are beautiful, and worth much money; and I have wanted money sorely since you adorned them last and turned from them with disdain; but I would have starved, I think, before I could have parted with them, for they had touched you." He sat down in the velvet chair by the fire, took something from his waistcoat-pocket, and held it towards the light on his open palm. It was a plain gold ring, and a date was engraved inside it. It was that of the day then passing into evening, and he had had it done that morning. "This is the true symbol," he murmured, "she will wear this willingly." He sat for many minutes gazing at the ring upon his outstretched hand; then he put it back into his pocket, and started up. A quarter to six.