In all the time he had known her Marc had never seen Toffee wear even a single piece of jewelry: it was taken for granted that her charms were sufficient unto themselves without any superficial ornamentation. One might be silly enough to apply gilt to a lily, but never to a gold piece. Therefore, he was surprised now to glance down and see quite a large ring on her finger. And the ring itself was quite as remarkable as the fact of Toffee's wearing it. Marc had never seen anything like it before and was willing to bet a tidy sum that no one else had either. The metal part of the ring was neither silver nor gold, yet faintly resembled both--with a strange translucent quality that seemed altogether unreal. It had been fashioned into a design that was both simple and beautiful. But it was really the stone which caught and held Marc's eye. Such a stone was simply not possible! It resembled an emerald of the largest, rarest and most beautiful kind, and yet it was not an emerald. No mere emerald, no natural chemical fluke, could possibly have the life--the almost living vitality--of this stone. It gave off a light that met the eye with something like an electrical shock. But that wasn't all. It was the _feeling_ you got just from looking at it--that the stone both absorbed from and contributed to the living atmosphere around it. The thing actually assumed a personality as you stared at it. Marc felt a shiver of apprehension. "Where did you get that ring?" he asked. "Oh, that," Toffee said negligently. "Just something I dreamed up out of my head--the way you dream me up." "You mean...?" "Sure," Toffee nodded. "You aren't the only one around here who can do cerebral somersaults. After all, I'm right here at the source. As a matter of fact it was something you said that gave me the idea." "What do you mean?" Marc asked. "What did I say?" "Oh, I forget just how it went right now," Toffee said. "Besides there'll be lots of time for all this dull conversation later. Right now...." "Are you trying to hold something back from me?" Marc asked suspiciously. "Nothing," Toffee said. She pulled herself closer, brushed her lips playfully across his cheek. "Absolutely nothing." She slipped her arm around his neck. * * * * * The next few seconds were characterized with quiet struggle as Marc disengaged himself from her determined embrace. "Next time hold something back," he said confusedly. "There's just so much that human flesh and blood can stand, you know." "And you have so little of either," Toffee said. She gazed at him reflectively. "Kissing you is like tying on your bib over a plate of bleached bones." "Leave it to you to paint a disgusting picture," Marc shuddered. "Give me a good heaping plate of bleached bones any time," Toffee said. "I'd prefer it." "May I remind you," Marc said coolly, "that it was you who hurled yourself into my arms? You seemed to be all for it at the time."