"Dearest," he said suddenly, and though he couched his words in form and voice of the whimsical they held the essence of entire sincerity, "I hate to seem unduly impressionable or sentimental--but there's something rather marvelous about you. You'd make a man--even a hardened one--want to go down on his knees before you in worship and at the same time you'd make a timid one want to dare hellfire to take you in his arms. In short, you're a secret and a riddle: an enticement and a sobering inspiration." The woman's cheeks momentarily reflected more warmly the rosy color of her smock and to her eyes came a mischievous riffle. "Or to say all that more briefly, Stuart," she replied in a disconcertingly matter-of-fact voice, "I'm a woman--and incidentally you mustn't drop into the habit of calling me dearest." The old boyhood smoldering blazed briefly in the man's face, but cleared at once into a smile. "You were criticizing the woman psychology of my heroine, I believe," he said calmly, lifting the neglected manuscript in his one good hand. "What's wrong with her?" "She's mid-Victorian. She's not modern," ruled the critic. "Her virtue is just a sugary saintliness that doesn't ring true. Any real woman in her circumstances would feel more disgraced by her marriage than by a divorce." Farquaharson raised his brows, then his laugh rang out with a somewhat satirical merriment. "And this from you! You admit in fiction the exact truths that you deny in life." "But your lady was tricked into marriage in the first place," responded Conscience with spirit. "You show me half the reason that woman had and I'll start my lawyer filing a petition the same day. I'll go further than that." Her eyes were twinkling since she meant to treat all these allusions so lightly as to disarm his own seriousness. "As a self-inflicted penalty I'll marry you." "I wonder if you would." "On my word of honor, and meanwhile our tea is getting cold. One lump, isn't it?" He nodded; then, as he watched the deftness with which her hands made a pretty ceremony of pouring tea, he inquired: "Have I seen that ring before--the opal with diamonds?" "I don't believe you have. Eben gave it to me last Christmas." "And you're not afraid of the opal's ill-luck?" "I love them enough to take the chance. Haven't I ever shown you my others--there's quite a collection of them." "No." "They're in the safe. I'll get Eben to open it as soon as Mr. Hagan leaves." Teasingly the man inquired, "Doesn't your husband trust you with the combination?" Conscience flushed. Her companion had touched a sensitive nerve. This was one of the details that went into the summary of Eben's excluding her from his business life, and it had hurt her. "I can't ever master it somehow," she evaded, and as she spoke Eben Tollman ushered Mr. Hagan out upon the terrace.