"If you're not in bed," she called, "come out a minute, will you? I've something important to say." All that was minx in Marise was revelling in the thought that presently Garth would suffer a disappointment. He would imagine that she wished to plead for grace from him. Then, before he could snub her, she'd give _him_ the snub of his life--just as he had given her, Marise Sorel, the shock of hers! Garth did not answer at once. The girl was hesitating whether to call him again, when his voice made her start. It sounded _sleepy_! "I _am_ in bed," he said. "What do you want? Is it too important to wait till morning?" "It's merely that I wished to put the jewels which were left in the salon into your charge," Marise replied with freezing dignity. "I do not think they are safe there." "Wouldn't they be safe enough with you?" came grumpily--yes, grumpily!--through the closed door. "No doubt. But I don't wish to have the responsibility, as I don't care to accept them...." "Oh, I see! Well, if that's your decision, it doesn't matter whether they're safe or not. Leave the things in the corridor if your room's too sacred for them. If that's all you want, I shall not get out of bed." What a man! "One would think you were a multi-millionaire!" Marise couldn't resist that one last, sarcastic dig. "So I may be for all you know. Do what you like with the silly old jewels." Marise threw the cases on the floor as loudly as she could. She knew that the outer door was locked, and that Céline would be the first person in, when morning came, so the act wasn't as reckless as it seemed. But it was a relief to her nerves at the moment. The filmy dressing-gown, the sparkling _mules_, the hair down, the general heartbreaking divineness, were _wasted_. CHAPTER XXIII THE DREAM Marise slept little, in what was left of that strange wedding night. She tried to think of Tony Severance, who must be suffering tortures through his love and fears for her. But somehow he had lost importance. He had become a figure in the background. Her thoughts would turn their "spot light" upon the man in the adjoining room. Was he asleep? Was he awake? Was he thinking about her, and if so, what? Why had he married her? If it was for love, as she had fancied at first, could he have treated her as he had? That was hard to believe! Yet it was harder to believe his motives wholly mercenary. "Perhaps that's because I'm vain," the girl told herself. And she remembered, her cheeks hot, how Garth had accused her of vanity and selfishness. He'd said that she took no interest in anything which didn't concern Marise Sorel. She had been angry then, and thought him unjust and hard. But in her heart she knew that he had touched the truth. She _was_ vain and selfish. And she was hard, too, just as hard to him as he to her. "_He_ has made me so!" she excused herself. "I was never hard to anyone else before, in all my life."