"Oh, that's very nice!" she said, with a nod, a little intrigued at the suggestion in his voice, very curious to see what he would offer her. Between them she was always conscious of move and countermove. Would he take this moment to make another overt advance, after these long weeks of acquiescence to her whims? Just how much did this infatuation and pursuit mean to him, translated into dollars? She sat down, keenly interested, holding out her hand. "First, please!" He laid a red plush box on her eager palm, slowly, delaying a moment _en connaisseur_, to appreciate the delicate wrist and the shell-pink fragile shades of the finger-tips. "It's a ring, a valuable ring, to tempt me!" she thought, smiling wisely to herself. She opened the box--immensely surprised. Inside was a tiny watch bracelet in gold and enamel, rare in design, but quite modest as an offering from him. She slipped it on her wrist, nodding appreciatively, choosing her words carefully. "How cunning! What a dear little watch! How clever of you!" "Wait!" He leaned forward, offering the other box. "There is a choice, you know!" She pressed the spring, and remained staring, caught by surprise. Against a background of royal blue, a necklace of pearls met her eyes, luminous and humanly, nakedly beautiful--a necklace such as once she had stood before on Fifth Avenue, breathless with desire, coveting each pearl that lay like a rare and perfectly beautiful nymph asleep against the lawn. The choice! She understood the cruel cleverness of it now. She shut the cover quickly, afraid to let her fingers know the delight of such a caress. Then she raised her eyes steadily to his keen scrutiny. "You ran no risk!" she said scornfully. "Take it! I ask nothing!" he said quietly. "Then why offer it?" "That you may understand my nature," he said in a lower voice--"how I am when I care!" "You know I could not honestly take such a present!" "Why not? You have warned me!" he still persisted. "I think such a woman is worse than one who pays," she said disdainfully, and with an angry motion she pushed the box from her, rising. "Miss Baxter," he said, with studied courtesy, putting the necklace back into his pocket, "it was bought for you; it will be waiting for you." "Ah, that's what you've been leading up to!" she said sharply, a note of anger in her voice; for the love of the jewels had left an ache. "Yes," he said frankly; "but they are yours--whenever you ask." "Why don't you say what you want to say, Mr. Sassoon? Are you so afraid of me?" she said, looking him directly in the eyes. "Perhaps!" he answered, pulling at his mustache. "And yet, we may as well be open, hadn't we?" She studied him a moment, and then resumed her seat, making him a peremptory sign to continue.