Deane produced his cheque-book--fortunately, he was well known--and wrote a cheque for over two thousand pounds in exchange for the receipt which the man handed to him. Winifred calmly withdrew her glove and slipped on the ring. The other things she asked them to send. When she left the shop, it seemed to Deane that there was a little more color in her cheeks and a deeper light in her eyes. "Jewelry interests you?" he remarked, as they stood for a moment on the pavement. "Yes!" she answered. "Of course it does. Everything of this sort interests me. Haven't I longed all my days to feel the touch of pearls upon my bare neck, to have something like this upon my finger that I could look at and worship, not only for itself but for the things it represents? Come and buy me some flowers. My sitting-room is a wilderness. Afterwards, I am going into the milliner's beyond." Deane followed her obediently into the florist's opposite. She chose a great bowl of pink roses and some white lilac. "How many of the roses, madam?" the shopman asked her. She looked at him with faintly upraised eyebrows. "Oh! send them as they are," she answered carelessly. "There are four dozen, madam," the man remarked, bowing. She nodded indifferently. The fact that they were a shilling each did not appear to interest her. "Is that all the lilacs you have?" she asked, as they were leaving the shop. "All we have at present, madam," the man answered. "Please get some more," she said, "if you can. These hotel sitting-rooms," she added, turning to Deane, "seem to have a sort of odor of their own. One can only get rid of it by having flowers everywhere. Now I am going in here," she said, stopping at a tiny milliner's. "You must wait for me--I know you are dying to smoke a cigarette--but you had better give me your pocket-book." "I am afraid," Deane answered imperturbably, "that its contents will be of little use to you, for I have only twenty pounds with me. If you will take these"--he handed her the notes--"I will take a taximeter and cash a cheque. I shall only be a few minutes." She nodded, and disappeared into the shop. When she came out again Deane had returned from his little expedition, and was talking to some men whom he knew. They glanced at Winifred a little curiously as they raised their hats and passed on. "We can perhaps continue our shopping," Deane said, "more comfortably now." She ignored the faint note of satire in his tone. "One needs so many things," she murmured. "The woman inside is just making out my bill. I think I shall want another thirty pounds." "I am afraid," he said, "that you have not been able to find what you wanted. The amount seems trivial." "Well," she said, "there was a lace dressing-gown about which I could not quite make up my mind. Perhaps, after all, I had better have it."