the room, on which lay the treasure with a bit of candle burning beside it.
A deep sigh expressed June's relief. "Please give it to me. I will lock it up in my box for safety."
He smiled at her eagerness, and declared that it was quite all right where it was. Besides, another week's work was needed to give the last touches to the delicate process of cleaning. June, whose careful bringing-up would not allow her to enter the room in such circumstances, tried from its threshold to make clear that the picture was already clean enough for her. But William was not be moved. Many exquisite details yet called for the labours of a true lover.
"Well, you must promise," whispered June finally, "to take enormous care of it. You must promise not to let it out of your sight for a single moment."
William hesitated to give this pledge. It appeared that his master wanted to show the picture to a friend; a fact which did but serve to confirm June in her suspicions. But she had the wisdom not to put them into words. She was content to affirm once more that the picture was now hers and that she would not trust anyone with a thing of such value.
"But I'd trust the master with my life," said William softly.
June felt that she would like to beat him for his innocence, as her manner plainly showed. In some things he was almost too simple to live.
Suddenly she gave him a stern good-night, and abruptly closed the door. But it was long after Saint Martin's Church had struck the hour of two that sleep visited her pillow.
