He was pale, and though his immense power of self-control kept him in check, Annesley shrank almost with horror from the fury of rage against Ruthven Smith which she read in her husband's gaze and the beating of the veins in his temples. Terrified lest his anger should break out in words, she hurried on to say what she would have said before the sudden move by the jewel expert. "Here is the sapphire ring you asked about, Knight," she said. "I was just going to take off this chain and give it to you to show to the Duke when----" "When Mr. Ruthven Smith took an unwarrantable liberty," Knight finished the sentence icily. "I--I meant nothing. Really, I can't tell you how I regret----" the wretched man stuttered. But Knight was without mercy. "Pray don't try any further," he cut in. "My wife is not a figurine in a shop window to have her ornaments stared at and pawed over. You are an old friend of hers, Mr. Ruthven Smith, and you are my guest--or rather my friend Annesley-Seton's guest--therefore I will say no more. But in some countries where I have lived such an incident would have ended differently." "Oh, _please_, Knight!" exclaimed Annesley, thankful that at least he had spoken his harsh words in so low a voice that no one outside their own group of three could hear. But she was shocked out of her brief exultation by his white rage and the depths revealed by the lightning flash of anger. Also she was sorry for Ruthven Smith, even while she resented the plot which it was evident he had come to carry out. With unsteady hands she lifted the delicate chain over her hair and gave it to her husband. "The ring is rather large for my finger. Here it is for you to show to the Duke," she reminded him. "Thank you, Anita," he said. And she knew that he thanked her for more than what she gave him. "I am a thousand times sorry," Ruthven Smith persisted. "More sorry than I can ever explain, or you will ever know." "Indeed it was nothing," the girl comforted him in her soft young voice. But she read in his words a hidden meaning, as she had read one into Knight's. She _did_ know that which he believed she would never know: the meaning of his act, and the effort it had cost to screw his courage to the sticking place. Also, as the star sapphire with its sparkle of diamonds had flashed into sight, she had seemed to read his mind. She guessed he must be telling himself that his informant--the Countess, or some other--had mistaken one blue stone for another. "Let's go and join Constance and the Duchess," she went on, quietly. "They're looking at some lovely things you will like to see. And you must forget that Knight was cross. He has lived in wild places, and he has a hot temper." "I deserved what I got, I'm afraid," murmured Ruthven Smith. "After all, nothing exciting seems likely to happen to-night in this room, in spite of the Countess's prophecy," said Constance. "Perhaps it may be to-morrow or Monday."