"Of course. Is it likely that I should wish to wear it on my bare breast
after it has been rubbing against your soiled armour?"

Without another word I unhooked the necklace and handed it to her. She
ran to a little distance, and, with one of those swift movements that
were common to her, fastened it about her own neck. Then she returned,
and threw the great strings of pearls, which she had removed to make
place for it, over my head.

"Now have you found the woman of that dream, Olaf?" she asked, turning
herself about in the moonlight.

I shook my head and answered:

"Nay, Augusta; but I fear that _you_ have found misfortune. When
it comes, I pray you to remember that you promised not to wear the
necklace. Also that your soldier, Olaf, Thorvald's son, would have given
his life rather than that you should have done so, not for the sake
of any dream, but for your sake, Augusta, whom it is his business to
protect."

"Would, then, it were your business either to protect me a little more,
or a little less!" she exclaimed bitterly.

Having uttered this dark saying, she vanished from the terrace still
wearing the string of golden shells.