She had been very beautiful. She still was handsome in a hard-lipped,
bold way, with abundant raven hair and a complexion that would have
been no worse for a touch of rouge. She seemed to scorn all the
conventional refinements, though. Her lacy white dress, open at the
neck, was creased and not too clean, but she wore in her bosom one
great jewel like a ruby, set in brilliants, that gave the lie to
poverty provided the gems were real. And the amber tube through which
she smoked a cigarette was seven or eight inches long and had diamonds
set in a gold band round its middle. She wore no wedding ring that I
could see; and she took no more notice of Will Yerkes beside her than
if he had been a part of the furniture.

"Why do you ask?" asked Monty, starting upstairs. She had to make way
for him, for Will Yerkes stood his ground.

"A fair question!" she laughed. Her voice had a hard ring, but was
very well trained and under absolute control. I received the
impression that she had been a singer at some time. "I am Lady Saffren
Waldon--Isobel Saffren Waldon."

Fred and I had followed Monty up and were close behind him. I heard
him mutter, "Oh, lord!" under his breath.

"I knew your brother," she added.

"I know you did."

"You think that gives me no claim on your acquaintance? Perhaps it
doesn't. But as an unprotected woman--"