But I did not want him
to be jealous of the Russian; and he would be horribly jealous, if he
thought that he had the least cause.
If I showed him the diamonds now, he would want to stop and talk. He
would ask me questions which I would rather not answer until I'd seen
Ivor Dundas again, and knew better what to say--whether truth or
fiction. Still, I wished Raoul to have the necklace to-night, because it
would mean all the difference to him between constant, gnawing anxiety,
and the joy of deliverance. Let him have a happy night, even though I
was sending him away, even though I did not know what to-morrow might
bring, either for him or for me.
I tied the gold cords of the bag in two hard knots, and went out with it
to Raoul in the next room.
"This holds something precious," I said, smiling at him, and making a
mystery. "You'll value the something, I know--partly for itself, partly
because I--because I've been at a lot of trouble to get it for you. When
you see it, you'll be more resigned not to see me--just for tonight. But
you're to write me a letter, please, and describe accurately every one
of your sensations on opening the bag.
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