I had my dinner alone, and afterwards strolled along the banks of the beautiful lake, smoking a cigar. There was no moon, but the sky was bright with stars. I was in no hurry, knowing that when Barbara was in one of her passionate fits it was best to give her plenty of time to get over it. My presence irritated her, and I did not care to be the butt of her unreasonable anger. CHAPTER XI. There was still no news of Maxwell, and I was pleased to be spared his presence. Now, I cannot say whether the scene which took place later in the day between me and Barbara was inspired by a communication which she had just received from Annette, or whether she had been already enlightened upon the subject, and had stored up the pretended grievance for use against me when she was in the humor for it. It matters little either way, and perhaps it would have been wiser of me to treat the accusation with contempt; but there are limits to a man's patience, and I could not always keep control of myself. It was commenced by Barbara inquiring whether my lady friend had followed us to Geneva, and by her answering the question herself. "But of course she has. You have laid your plans artfully. Keep her out of my way, or I'll strangle her." "You are mad," I muttered, and indeed, I must either have believed so, or that she was at her devil's tricks again. "Not yet," she screamed, and then I knew that she had been drinking. "Not yet. You may drive me to it in the end, but the end hasn't come yet. No, not by many a long day, Johnnie, my dear! Only don't let me get hold of her, or there'll be murder done." "Tell me what you mean," I said, closing the doors and windows, for I was anxious that the people in the hotel should not hear, "and I may be able to answer you." "Where is the lady's brooch you bought in Paris?" she asked. "Show it to me, and I'll be satisfied. Well, where is it?" Then I recollected that Annette had passed through the room of the hotel in Paris when I emptied my pockets there; I was looking at the brooch, debating what I should do with it. "You are thinking what to say," Barbara continued. "I will save you the trouble of inventing a lie. Say that you bought it for me." "It would be the truth. I did buy it for you." "Give it me, then; it belongs to me." "I cannot give it to you; I have parted with it." "I knew it without your telling me. You gave it to the other woman." "There is no other woman in the case. Be reasonable, Barbara. Things are bad enough, God knows, but I can honestly say you have no cause for jealousy. The brooch was intended for you, but I changed my mind, and returned it to the jeweler." "Not thinking it suitable for me." "Exactly. I did not think it suitable for you." "The device was not appropriate, eh?" "It was not appropriate."