She was back in less than a minute, bearing in her hand a small leather-covered box. On the lid was gummed a narrow strip of paper, on which was written, in delicate characters, 'The Burton Ruby.' Mr Burton received it with a cry of recognition. 'It's it; but the writing's strange.' 'It is her writing.' 'It's uncle's box--the one in which he always kept the blessed thing. There's his crest; there's where I dropped it in the ink.' He raised the lid. 'It's empty!' 'Last night Mr Holland took from it the ring which was inside. I always imagined that in it she kept your uncle's ruby, which was what I said to Mr Holland, as I told you I would do.' 'You're a nice girl, Lou!' 'And you're a nice man! Are you not a nice man?' Mr Cox interposed. 'Now, don't let's have any quarrelling. Stick to business. Time's precious. Go on with your story.' The lady turned and rent him. 'I will not go on with my story for you. What business of yours is my story, you dirty Jew?' Mr Burton smiled benignly. 'Personalities! personalities! Don't call the man a Jew, my dear. Cox is no Jew; he's an anti-Semite. Continue your story for me, my love.' Miss Casata complied with his request, although not in the most gracious manner. 'Do not call me your love, or you will be sorry. As Mr Holland was taking the ring out of the box, she came in--' 'And caught him at it? It must have been exciting. Wicked Guy!' 'He wished to give it to her back again, but she said, "Go, and take it with you." He took it, and went. Then, when he had gone, she began to laugh. She kept on laughing--it was true laughter, not false--as if it was the best joke in the world, and she said, "Poor Guy, how disappointed he will be!"' 'You notice things.' 'I am not a fool.' 'Is it possible that anyone ever mistook you for one?' Mr Cox dug him with his elbow in the ribs, by way of a hint to him to hold his tongue. Miss Casata went contemptuously on,-- 'I perceive now that she laughed because she knew that he had not taken with him what he supposed; but what I do not understand is, where, then, is the ring? I know she kept it in this box.' She examined minutely the one she held. Mr Cox put a question to Mr Burton. 'For the last time, Burton, I suppose you're quite sure that it's not your uncle's ring? Nice we should look if it was afterwards discovered that you had made a mistake.' 'Don't be a silly ass! How many more times do you want to hear me swear? I say, Cox, have you two legs, or four, and which end of you are they? I might just as reasonably put such questions to you. I tell you, I know.' Miss Casata was still continuing her scrutiny.