"Oh, Nick, the bracelet—Ellie's bracelet. . . . I've never returned it to her," she faltered out.
He felt himself recoiling under the hands with which she clutched his knees. For an instant he did not remember what she alluded to; it was the mere mention of Ellie Vanderlyn's name that had fallen between them like an icy shadow. What an incorrigible fool he had been to think they could ever shake off such memories, or cease to be the slaves of such a past!
"The bracelet?—Oh, yes," he said, suddenly understanding, and feeling the chill mount slowly to his lips.
"Yes, the bracelet . . . Oh, Nick, I meant to give it back at once; I did—I did; but the day you went away I forgot everything else. And when I found the thing, in the bottom of my bag, weeks afterward, I thought everything was over between you and me, and I had begun to see Ellie again, and she was kind to me—and how could I?" To save his life he could have found no answer, and she pressed on: "And so this morning, when I saw you were frightened by the expense of bringing all the children with us, and when I felt I couldn't leave them, and couldn't leave you either, I remembered the bracelet; and I sent you off to telephone while I rushed round the corner to a little jeweller's where I'd been before, and pawned it so that you shouldn't have to pay for the children. . . . But now, darling, you see, if you've got
