Surprised less at what she said than at her serious manner, he laid down the newspaper, and, jumping up, went over to her. His wife sat motionless, her lips trembling, her large eyes filled with tears. In spite of a palpable effort at self-control, it was evident that she was laboring under great nervous tension. Bending caressingly over her, he said anxiously: "Why Helen, old girl! What's the matter?" She made no answer. Her head fell on his breast. For a moment she could not speak. Her emotion seemed to choke her utterance, paralyze her speech. He insisted: "What is it, dearie?" he demanded. "I'm so nervous about your going, I'm so afraid about your having the diamond," she sobbed. Suddenly, as if unable longer to control herself, she rose from the table and threw her arms around his neck. Passionately she cried: "Oh, Kenneth, don't go! Don't go! I feel that something will happen." He laughed carelessly as he fondled her. More seriously he replied: "I hope something does happen. That's what I'm going out there for. Why, Helen dear, I don't think you quite realize what this trip means to us. If the deal goes through, and we get full control of all that property, we'll all be as rich as Croesus. Just think, dear, 300,000 square miles of the most wonderful diamond producing country. In ten days they found 400 beautifully clear stones, some of them weighing over a hundred carats. If the reports are true, we shall have a group of mines as valuable as the famous De Beers group. Do you know what they have produced to date in actual money?" The young woman shook her head. Usually she was glad enough to listen to her husband's business plans, but to-day they wearied her. Her mind was too much preoccupied with something that concerned her far more. The idea of this coming separation, the knowledge that he was running a risk, had left her singularly depressed. She had tried to remain calm and control her emotion, but the effort was beyond her. The prospect of this separation, with its vague, undefined forebodings of disaster, was simply intolerable. The tears she was unable to restrain rolled silently down her cheeks. He looked at her in surprise. Never had he seen her in this mood. Approaching her more closely, he said kindly: "That can't be the only reason, dear, what's the matter?" She hesitated a moment before she answered: "I'm very nervous to-day. I was dreadfully irritated last night at the dinner. I wish I hadn't gone----" "Who irritated you?" "That man Signor Keralio. I simply can't tolerate the man. How I hate him!" "Why--what did he do?" "He did nothing. He wouldn't dare--there. But I wouldn't care to be alone with him. His eyes were enough. He imagines he is irresistible, and that every woman is immoral. That is the kind of man he is. He annoyed me all evening. There was no getting away from him."