It never occurred to her to sell or pawn any of the furniture, silver,

furs, rugs,--anything at all that Clive had given her. And there was

one reason why she never would do it: she refused to consider anything

he had given her as her own property to dispose of if she chose. For

she had accepted these things from Clive only because it gave him

pleasure to give. And what she possessed she regarded as his property

held in trust. Nothing could have induced her to consider these things

in any other light.

One souvenir, only, did she look upon as her own. It had no financial

value; and, if it had, she would have starved before disposing of it.

This was the first thing he ever gave her--his boy's offering--the

gun-metal wrist-watch.

And her only recent extravagance had been a sentimental one; she had

the watch cleaned and regulated, and a new leather strap adjusted. The

evening it was returned to her she wore it; and that night she slept

with the watch strapped to her wrist.

So much for a young girl's sentiment!--for no letter came from him on

the morrow although the European mail was in. None came the next day;

nor the next.

Toward the end of the week, one sultry evening, when Athalie returned

from an unsuccessful tour of job-hunting, and nearer depression than

ever she had yet been, Captain Dane came stalking in, shook hands with

his usual decision, picked up Hafiz who adored him, and took the

chair nearest to the lounge where Athalie lay.

[Illustration: "With him she visited the various museums and art

galleries."] "Suppose we dine somewhere?" he suggested, fondling the purring Angora

and rubbing its ears.

"Would you mind," she said, "if I didn't?"

"You're very tired, aren't you, Miss Greensleeve?"

"A little. I don't believe I have the energy to go out with you."

Still fondling the willing cat he said: "What's wrong? Something's

wrong, isn't it?"

"No indeed."

He turned and gave her a square look: "You're quite sure?"

"Quite."

"Oh; all right. Will you let me have dinner here with you?"

She said without embarrassment: "I neglected my marketing: there's

very little in the pantry."

"Well," he said, "I'm hungry and I'm going to call up the Hotel

Trebizond and have them send us some dinner."

She seemed inclined to demur, but he had his way, went to the

telephone and gave his orders.




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