"So I hear you've come in for a wonderful find, ma'am--a Chinese figure
valued at a handsome sum! Do you know I'm something of a judge of such
stuff--old porcelain is rather in my line--and I'd like to have a look
at the prize after dinner, if you don't object, and if the bargain is
not clinched perhaps I might go one better."

Mrs. Malone coloured like a young girl--or was it the blush of guilt?
Would her sin find her out? No; no matter what the dealer said, she
determined to stick to her story; she would not allow him to see the
figure. She knew Manasseh Levison to be a persistent, over-bearing
sort of man; nevertheless, she was resolved to defeat him. If the
worst came to the worst, she would go to bed, and either take the
figure with her, or hide it up the chimney. But alas for her plans!
Manasseh, scenting a good thing, immediately after his cigar was
finished, boldly followed the old lady into forbidden ground--her
sitting-room--and did not even knock, but just turned the handle of the
door and walked in. He discovered his hostess and young Shafto,
evidently holding a weighty conference--with the figure on the table
between them.

"Mr. Levison," she exclaimed, "are you aware that this is my private
apartment, and that such an intrusion is unwelcome?"

Levison, not the least abashed, had snatched up the figure and
critically examined it, glass in eye. For an appreciable time he stood
silent and transfixed, obviously gloating over the article in his
grasp--yes, gloating, with the absorbed expression of a devotee! At
last he spoke, raising his voice almost to a shout:

"And are _you_ aware, madam; that this--this piece in my hand, is a