“Astounding!” he gasped. His gaze fastened upon a boule bric-�-brac stand, on which stood an Aretine vase two feet high, of peerless form and glaze. The ticking of the great Peter Hele clock drew his attention to a work of ebony and ivory as scarcely could be believed as coming from man’s hands.

“Now thou’rt of a kind with thy fellows!” she cried in anger. “Look at me! No, thy eyes will not deign to seek me now!”

Pearse snatched his eyes away, and answered her with a laugh that sent her blood leaping again.

“My Dolores forgets she demanded my admiration for her treasures,” he said. “What would you have, splendid one? Shall I say these treasures are still paltry, when I see their countless