Lefroy nodded. The course suggested suited him admiringly. When he was best pleased Frobisher chatted most, and he seemed to be exceedingly pleased about something now. Lefroy would have time to recover his scattered thoughts and define some line of action. "You have solved the problem of the lady of the rubies?" Sir Clement asked. "I have," Lefroy replied carelessly. "From a romantic point of view the solution is disappointing. I expected to see a regal personage at the very least, whereas——" The speaker shrugged his shoulders insolently. The other smiled expectantly. "Go on, my dear Lefroy. I am all attention, I assure you. The lady of the rubies is——?" It was on the tip of Lefroy’s tongue to snarlingly reply that Frobisher knew perfectly well, but that was bad policy under the circumstances. "You are typical of the spirit of the age," he said. "All the same, I hardly expected to see the wife of a moneylender under your roof. Lady Frobisher——" "Has progressed rapidly of late in the cult of the proletariat. So Mrs. Benstein is the lady of the rubies. I half expected it from the first—only the wife of a moneylender could sport jewels like that. But she is a beautiful woman, Lefroy, and she is going to make a great social success." Lefroy could only mutter something in reply. He had one great aim in view at the present moment—to get back to the ballroom and persuade Frobisher to remain where he was. Did the Count but know it, Frobisher was just as eager to reverse the order of the procedure. But no suggestion of this escaped him, he sat there smiling as if he and a double meaning were strangers. "I am very partial to rubies myself," he said. "In a modest way I am a collector, and my uncut stones are worth an inspection. My wife also has the same weakness, which is another of the many strong bonds that bind us together. I’ll show them to you." "Don’t trouble," Lefroy said hastily. "Any other time will do. If you have to fetch them——" "Sit down. Positively you must have another drop of the brandy. Your nerves are better, but not what the nerves of a bold warrior should be." So saying, Frobisher produced a case from a drawer and laid the contents before Lefroy’s eyes. In spite of himself he could not but admire. He did not see the keen, alert look on the face of his host as he bent down to examine the gems. People were passing the open door; there was a light ripple of laughter and conversation. Frobisher darted into the hall. "This way a moment," he whispered, as he caught his wife by the arm. "Come with me and do as I tell you. You are to keep Lefroy in yonder room for half an hour." He was back again before Lefroy had missed him. Lady Frobisher’s scornful eyes softened as they fell upon the tray of gems. "We have a taste in common, then, Count," she said.