details as yet.’
She laughed and passed on.
Edward followed, his brain in a whirl. He knew now. Lady Noreen Eliot, the famous Lady Noreen herself, perhaps the most talked of girl in England. Celebrated for her beauty, for her daring – the leader of that set known as the Bright Young People. Her engagement to Captain James Folliot, V.C., of the Household Calvalry, had been recently announced.
But the necklace? He still couldn’t understand the necklace. He must risk giving himself away, but know he must.
As they sat down again, he pointed to it.
‘Why that, Noreen?’ he said. ‘Tell me why?’
She smiled dreamily, her eyes far away, the spell of the dance still holding her.
‘It’s difficult for you to understand, I suppose. One gets so tired of the same thing – always the same thing. Treasure hunts were all very well for a while, but one gets used to everything. “Burglaries” were my idea. Fifty pounds entrance fee, and lots to be drawn. This is the third. Jimmy and I drew Agnes Larella. You know the rules? Burglary to be carried out within three days and the loot to be worn for at least an hour in a public place, or you forfeit your stake and a hundred-pound fine. It’s rough luck on Jimmy spraining his ankle, but we’ll scoop the pool all right.’
‘I see,’ said Edward, drawing a deep breath. ‘I see.’
Noreen rose suddenly, pulling her shawl round her.
‘Drive me somewhere in the car. Down to the docks. Somewhere horrible and exciting. Wait a minute –’ She reached up and unclasped the diamonds from her neck. ‘You’d better take these again. I don’t want to be murdered for them.’
They went out of Ritson’s together. The car stood in a small by-street, narrow and dark. As they turned the corner towards it, another car drew up to the curb, and a young man sprang out.
‘Thank the Lord, Noreen, I’ve got hold of you at last,’ he cried. ‘There’s the devil to pay. That ass Jimmy got off with the wrong car. God knows where those diamonds are at this minute. We’re in the devil of a mess.’
Lady Noreen stared at him.
‘What do you mean? We’ve got the diamonds – at least Edward has.’
‘Edward?’
‘Yes.’ She made a slight gesture to indicate the figure by her side.
‘It’s I who am in the devil of a mess,’ thought Edward. ‘Ten to one this is brother Gerald.’
The young man stared at him.
‘What do you mean?’ he said slowly. ‘Edward’s in Scotland.’
‘Oh!’ cried the girl. She stared at Edward. ‘Oh!’
Her colour came and went.
‘So you,’ she said, in a low voice, ‘are the real thing?’
It took Edward just one minute to grasp the situation. There was awe in the girl’s eyes – was it, could it be – admiration? Should he explain? Nothing so tame! He would play up to the end.
He bowed ceremoniously.
‘I have to thank you, Lady Noreen,’ he said, in the best highwayman manner, ‘for a most delightful evening.’
One quick look he cast at the car from which the other had just alighted. A scarlet car with a shining bonnet. His car!
‘And I will wish you good-evening.’
One quick spring and he was inside, his foot on the clutch. The car started forward. Gerald stood paralysed, but the girl was quicker. As the car slid past she leapt for it, alighting on the running board.
The car swerved, shot blindly round the corner and pulled up. Noreen, still panting from her spring, laid her hand on Edward’s arm.
‘You must give it me – oh, you must give it me. I’ve got to return it to Agnes Larella. Be a sport – we’ve had a good evening together – we’ve danced – we’ve been – pals. Won’t you give it to me? To me?’
A woman who intoxicated you with her beauty. There were such women then …
Also, Edward was only too anxious to get rid of the necklace. It was a heaven-sent opportunity for a beau geste.
He took it from his pocket and dropped it into her outstretched hand.
‘We’ve been – pals,’ he said.
‘Ah!’ Her eyes smouldered – lit up.
Then surprisingly she bent her head to him. For a moment he held her, her lips against his …
Then she jumped off. The scarlet car sped forward with a great leap.
Romance!
Adventure!
At twelve o’clock on Christmas Day, Edward Robinson strode into the tiny drawing-room of a house in Clapham with the customary greeting of ‘Merry Christmas’.
Maud, who was rearranging a piece of holly, greeted him coldly.
‘Have a good day in the country with that friend of yours?’ she inquired.
‘Look here,’ said Edward. ‘That was a lie I told you. I won a competition – £500, and I bought a car with it. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d kick up a row about it. That’s the first thing. I’ve bought the car and there’s nothing more to be said about it. The second thing is this – I’m not going to hang about for years. My prospects are quite good enough and I mean to marry you next month. See?’
‘Oh!’ said Maud faintly.
Was this – could this be – Edward speaking in this masterful fashion?
‘Will you?’ said Edward. ‘Yes or no?’
She gazed at him, fascinated. There was awe and admiration in her eyes, and the sight of that look was intoxicating to Edward. Gone was that patient motherliness which had roused him to exasperation.
So had the Lady Noreen looked at him last night. But the Lady Noreen had receded far away, right into the region of Romance, side by side with the Marchesa Bianca. This was the Real Thing. This was his woman.
‘Yes or no?’ he repeated, and drew a step nearer.
‘Ye – ye-es,’ faltered Maud. ‘But, oh, Edward, what has happened to you? You’re quite different today.’
‘Yes,’ said Edward. ‘For twenty-four hours I’ve been a man instead of a worm – and, by God, it pays!’
He caught her in his arms almost as Bill the superman might have done.
‘Do you love me, Maud? Tell me, do you love
