if you would only leave--Anne's necklace--on the coal, or
somewhere--and get away--"

My voice got beyond me then, and I dropped into a chair and
covered my face. I could feel him staring at the back of my head.

"Well, I'll be--" something or other, he said finally, and then
he turned on his heel and went out. By the time I got my eyes dry
(yes, I was crying; I always do when I am angry) I heard Jim
coming downstairs, and I tucked the watch out of sight. Would
anyone have foreseen the trouble that watch would make!

Jim was sulky. He dropped into a chair and stretched out his
legs, looking gloomily at nothing. Then he got up and ambled into
his den, closing the door behind him without having spoken a
word. It was more than human nature could stand.

When I went into the den he was stretched on the davenport with
his face buried in the cushions. He looked absolutely wilted, and
every line of him was drooping.

"Go on out, Kit," he said, in a smothered voice. "Be a good girl
and don't follow me around."

"You are shameless!" I gasped. "Follow you! When you are hung
around my neck like a--like a--" Millstone was what I wanted to
say, but I couldn't think of it.

He turned over and looked up from his cushions like an
ill-treated and suffering cherub.