Fleda thought an instant. "You mean makes her hesitate to keep you--not hesitate to renounce you?" Owen looked a trifle bewildered. "She doesn't see the use of hanging on, as I haven't even yet put the matter into legal hands. She's awfully keen about that, and awfully disgusted that I don't. She says it's the only real way, and she thinks I'm afraid to take it. She has given me time and then has given me again more. She says I give Mummy too much. She says I'm a muff to go pottering on. That's why she's drawing off so hard, don't you see?" "I don't see very clearly. Of course you must give her what you offered her; of course you must keep your word. There must be no mistake about _that_!" the girl declared. Owen's bewilderment visibly increased. "You think, then, as she does, that I _must_ send down the police?" The mixture of reluctance and dependence in this made her feel how much she was failing him. She had the sense of "chucking" him too. "No, no, not yet!" she said, though she had really no other and no better course to prescribe. "Doesn't it occur to you," she asked in a moment, "that if Mona is, as you say, drawing away, she may have, in doing so, a very high motive? She knows the immense value of all the objects detained by your mother, and to restore the spoils of Poynton she is ready--is that it!--to make a sacrifice. The sacrifice is that of an engagement she had entered upon with joy." Owen had been blank a moment before, but he followed this argument with success--a success so immediate that it enabled him to produce with decision: "Ah, she's not that sort! She wants them herself," he added; "she wants to feel they're hers; she doesn't care whether I have them or not! And if she can't get them she doesn't want _me_. If she can't get them she doesn't want anything at all." This was categoric; Fleda drank it in. "She takes such an interest in them?" "So it appears." "So much that they're _all_, and that she can let everything else absolutely depend upon them?"