Joy! She had acted her part yesterday, flashed her dazzling smile at the world. To-day discontent walked with her on the hot pavement. She had been contented, happy, in her little flat, childishly pleased with her new life, her pretty clothes, her gaieties. And now she wanted more. Electric motors glided by, silent, powerful; wealth which would not have missed the Carterets' yearly income for a day passed her on all sides. A fat woman got out of a car; the Pekingese dog she carried had cost two hundred pounds. "Oh! Mrs Carteret!" Mrs Holbrook held out a fat hand. "Hot, isn't it? I'm just going in to Benhusan's here. This necklace Luke gave me yesterday has a bad clasp. So dangerous! I want a pendant for it too. Come in and advise me--_do_!" Into the shop with its sombre splendour. Background to pearl and ruby, to diamond and opal and sapphire and emerald. These spread before this merchant's wife, dazzling toys of pink and blue and sparkling white. Esmé wanted them. Mere youth ceased to content her. She could not buy even one of these things. She must look and long. "This one is two hundred guineas, madam." "Oh! Luke said I might go to that. Mrs Carteret, do advise me. This pearl, the pear shaped; or the circle of opals--or what do you think of the sapphires? I am so stupid." Sapphires would not go with the pearl and diamond necklace. Esmé's slim fingers picked up the pearl pendant, held it longingly. It was the only possible thing, and even then not quite right, but it would do, she said. "You've such perfect taste, child. Luke always says so. So _glad_ I met you. Well, see you soon again--to-morrow. We've a large party." Men and women buying lovely--perhaps unneeded--jewels, spending hundreds, thousands, that they might see someone turn to look at their adornments. A millionaire American grumbled over the merits of pearls spread on purple velvet. He wanted something extra. "Get these anywhere. Mrs Cyrus J. Markly was going to Court. He'd promised she should have a string to knock creation. No, these wouldn't do." Hurried calling on heads of departments, rooting into hidden safes. Fresh glistening treasures laid out. Mr Markly might trust Benhusan's. The rope with its diamond links and clasps should be magnificent. He might leave it in their hands. They would ransack London for perfect pearls. With a little gasp of impatience Esmé Carteret went out. She wanted money. Mere comfort was nothing to her to-day. Furs are neglected in summer, but Esmé strolled into the great Bond Street store. She was sending a coat for alteration and storage. Denise Blakeney was there, a stole of black fox spread before her. "Summer prices, my lady. See, a rare bargain." "And out of fashion by September or October; but it _is_ good." Denise held up the soft fur. "Oh! you, Esmé! See, shall I have it? These things are always useful." Esmé stroked the supple softness of the furs, held the wrap longingly.