How like Jack, putting aside his own suffering to be sure of my welfare. I put my hand in my muff, drew out my mesh bag and opened it.
"Jack!" I gasped, horror-stricken, "my rings are gone!"
"Impossible!" His face was white. He snatched my mesh bag from my grasp. "Where did you put them? In here?"
Jack turned the mesh bag inside out. A handkerchief, a small coin purse, two or three bills of small denominations, an envelope with a tiny powder puff--these were all.
"Yes." I could hardly articulate the word, I was so frightened.
I thought a moment. Had I? Then a rush of remembrance came to me.
"I took out a handkerchief when I cried in the restaurant."
"You must have drawn them out then, and either dropped them there, or they may have been caught in the handkerchief and dropped in the taxi." We searched without success and Jack's face darkened as he ordered the chauffeur to speed back to Broquin's. "We must hurry, dear. This is awful. If you have lost those rings, your husband will have a right to be angry."
Neither of us spoke again until the taxi drew up in front of the restaurant. Then Jack said almost curtly:
"Wait here. I don't think it will be necessary for you to go inside, and it might be embarrassing for you."
He fairly ran up the steps and disappeared inside the door.
So anxious was I to know what would be the result of his inquiry that I leaned far forward in the machine, watching the door of Broquin's for Jack's return.
I did not realize my imprudence in doing this until I heard my name called jovially.
"Well! well, Mrs. Graham, I suppose you are on your way to our shack. Won't you give me the pleasure of riding with you?"
Hat in hand, black eyes dancing in malicious glee, I saw standing before me, Harry Underwood, of all people!
At that instant Jack came rushing out of the restaurant and up to the taxi.
"It's no use, Margaret. They can't find them anywhere."
"Jack, I want you to meet Mr. Underwood, a friend of my husband's," I said hastily, hoping to save the situation. "Mr. Underwood, my cousin, Mr. Bickett."
"Glad to meet you, Mr. Bickett," Harry Underwood said, in his effusive manner. "Have you lost anything valuable? Can I help in any way?"
"Nothing of any consequence," I interrupted desperately.