He was silent for what seemed a long time. Her sobs spent themselves quietly in the depths of her self-pity, and at last he said softly: “Anyway, Betty, you’ve got your own back on the Felix Waite family now. You’ll be able to go back to the country, as you’ve always wanted to, and live comfortably for a time. Or perhaps you’ll be able to start a little shop of some kind.” She stared at him in immense amazement, but he was looking out of the little window.... “Michael Wagstaffe,” she breathed, “what the blazes are you talking about?” “A diamond ring worth £2000,” said Michael Wagstaffe to the window. “Balmy!” she jeered at him. “Hand it over, Betty,” said the cavalier of the streets sharply. He stared down her frightened incredulous look. “It’s no good your saying you haven’t got it, because I guessed you had when I saw you leaving the Felix Waite house this evening, and I _know_ you have now I’ve seen your face....” She began shrilly, but he snapped her up. “Now don’t be silly, child. It’s no good your being selfish with it because you’ll never be able to get rid of it on your own, and you’ll only get copped if you try. I know about these things. So hand it over and try not to look as though I was boring you with a tale about potatoes sprouting from the Albert Memorial. We’ll go halves on it, I’m telling you. But you’ll have to trust me.” She leapt up, faced him, a figure of tense fury. “I trust _you_! You poor silly cad, I trust _you_! Get away from my sight before----” And she suddenly realised that she had not denied having the diamond-ring, that he had provoked her outburst, that he was laughing at her. She threw herself down on the sofa again and fumbled in the yellow packet for a cigarette. “Clever, aren’t you!” she sneered. “Only by contrast,” smiled the cavalier of the streets. “I shall have to find it myself, then?” She made a move as though to spring from the sofa, but it was only a little move, for she knew her man, and he was standing just beside her. “You’re just a blamed fool,” was all she said. “Don’t move, Betty,” he begged her gently. “Please don’t move. Because I don’t want to have to tie you up. All I want to do is to find that diamond-ring. It’s silly of you to put me to the trouble of having to look for it, but even so I shall give you half of whatever I get for it, for which you must thank my late mother for the way she brought me up.” He seemed to have fallen into a conversational vein; he heeded not the contemptuous sounds with which the pretty girl--now, alas! not so pretty as she had been--sought to disturb the even tenor of his conversation; and all the while his eyes were busy about the room, a largish and dingy bed-sitting-room, the bed being inadequately hidden in an alcove behind a frayed green curtain.