Ruyler swung the bookcase outward, opened the safe and handed him the ruby. Spaulding regarded it with bulging eyes, and touched it with his finger tips much as he would a newborn babe. "Some stone!" he said, as he handed it back, "but why in thunder don't you keep it in a safe deposit box? There are crooks that can crack any safe, and if they got wise to this--oh, howdy, ma'am--" Helene had come in and stood behind the two men. Spaulding snatched off his hat and she acknowledged her husband's introduction graciously. She was dressed for the evening in white. Her eyes looked abnormally large, and she kept dropping her lids as if to keep them from setting in a stare. Her lovely mouth with its soft curves was faded and set. The whole face was almost as stiff as a mask, and even her graceful body was rigid. Ruyler saw Spaulding give her a sharp "sizing-up" look, as he murmured, "Well, so long, Guv. See you to-morrow. Hope the man'll turn out all right after all." "I hope so. He's a good chap otherwise." "Good night, ma'am. Tell your husband to put that ruby in a safe deposit box." "Oh, nobody knows the safe is there except Mr. Ruyler and myself--" "There have been safes hidden behind bookcases before," said Spaulding dryly. "And crooks, like all the other pests of the earth, just drift naturally to this coast. If I were you I'd have a detective on hand whenever you wear that bit o' glass--not at a friendly affair like the Gwynnes' dinner, of course, but--" "Good idea!" exclaimed Ruyler. "My wife will wear the ruby to the Thornton fete on the fourteenth. Will you be on hand to guard it?" "Won't I? About half our force is engaged for that blow-out, but no one but yours truly shall be guardian angel for the ruby. Well, good night once more, and good luck." * * * * * As soon as the detective had gone Ruyler drew his wife to him anxiously, "What is it, Helene? You look--well, you don't look yourself!" "I have a headache," she said irritably. "Perhaps I'm developing nerves. I do wish you would take me to New York. Other women get away from this town once in a while." "But you told me on Sunday that you adored California, that it was like fairy land--" "Oh, all the women out here bluff themselves and everybody else just so long and then suddenly go to pieces. It's a wonderful state, but what a life! What a life! Surely I was made for something better. I don't wonder--" "What?" he asked sharply. "Oh, nothing. I feel ungrateful, of course. I really should be quite happy. Think if I had to go back to Rouen to live--after this taste of freedom, and beauty--for California has all the beauties of youth as well as its idiocies and vices--" "There is not the remotest danger of your ever being obliged to live in Rouen again--"