Surely
you can replace this wire where it belongs."
I shook my head. "It was a filigree frame," I volunteered.
I had spoken with as little thought as a dog barks, and quite as
witlessly. I knew that as soon as I heard my words. I looked at the
woman. But she was not going to question me.
"If it was a frame, it held a miniature," she said quietly. "Please
twist the wire around it again. I prefer the brass ring."
"Because?"
"I would not rob any one. If you have carried the picture all these
leagues, it is a token from some one you love; some one who loves you.
I have no part in that."
I went on plaiting the wire. "The woman of the miniature will know no
robbery," I said, "because she knew no possession. Mademoiselle, you
seem in every way to be a woman with whom it is wisest to have a clear
understanding."
"You need tell me nothing."
"It is better to tell the whole, now that you have stumbled on a part.
I was nothing to that woman whose face I carried with me. She did not
know I had the picture. I might never have told her. It was nothing,
you see. It was all in a man's mind, and the man now has sterner
matters to fill his thought. I would like you to wear this ring.
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