It seemed that he meant even this to be offensive. Megan started to hand back the rings. "Yes, I can see they are lovely," she said politely. The General suddenly caught her hand and closed it firmly about the rings. "I want you to keep them," he said, "they are yours." Megan shook his hand off and dropped the rings as if they had been hot coals. "They are yours," the General insisted, "put them on and wear them." "That is simply preposterous, I wouldn't think of it. I don't want them." Megan was stammering with indignation, but more from his peremptory touch and command than from what he implied. She had not realized that yet. She turned to look at Mah-li and saw by the fixity of her eyes, looking directly ahead of her, that she was deeply troubled. The young captain took a sip of tea with a sucking sound, set down his cup and politely hiccoughed. "You must take them," the General repeated. "I assure you they are mine to give. The money which bought them came from me. Or so I am told," he looked around at all of them and added with finality, "so now I give them to you." "This is too disgusting!" Megan started to get up, but Mah-li suddenly put out her fragile hand and touched her arm. There was the urgency of the suppliant in the pressure of her fingers. "Please take them," she whispered. Megan turned and looked at her. Then she gave a final exclamation. "I'll take them," she said, looking at Mah-li and ignoring the others, "but I'll return them to you in the morning." She gathered them loosely in one hand and sat staring angrily ahead of her. Mr. Shultz burst into a roar of melodious laughter, and under cover of it Mah-li said something in Chinese to the General. He nodded indifferently and she slipped from her chair and left the room. When the door had shut behind her, Megan said: "I hate you both for humiliating her like that. It was disgusting." But she did not look at the General, she looked straight at Mr. Shultz. She got up. "I'm going now." The General pushed his chair back abruptly. He said nothing, but he looked at her with an expression of such despair that she did not know whether it was genuine or assumed to play the buffoon and to disarm her. As she stood surprised, he took her gently by the arm and pushed her back into her chair. "Don't go, please," he said. "Have another cigarette, let me offer you something to drink." She shook her head. But she decided not to leave as long as she was angry. Mr. Shultz poured himself another drink and puffed at his cigar. Then holding it between his teeth he began to count up the chips. "Nice girl, Mah-li," he said, "well-mannered, raised in a Mission school she tells me." He winked at Megan. "She is altogether charming," said Megan icily; "she is pretty and quiet and modest, and I am quite sure she is good." "Well, that's an idea!" laughed Mr. Shultz.