At this moment, Davies, who had completed his preparations, extinguished the torch. They were both conscious, however, that something had intervened between them. "Poor thing!" muttered he, as the widow departed on her errand, "she's seen better days and better circumstances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure. I doubt if you will receive anything for your trouble. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. Inside was the blue stone she had lost in the 1800’s.
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