In the morning she arose early, urged by a fevered restlessness that
drove her with relentless force. Dressing, she discovered the loss of a
little heart-shaped brooch, Jack's gift, which she always wore.
Adela, still lying in bed, assured her that she had seen it in her dress
the previous evening while at dinner. "It probably came out in that
little conservatory place when Fletcher was embracing you," she said.
"Not very likely, I think," said Dot, flushing.
Nevertheless, since she valued it, she finished dressing in haste and
departed to search for it.
There was no one about with the exception of a man who was cleaning up
the billiard-room and assured her that her property was not there. So
she passed on along the passage to the shabby little glass-house whither
she and Fletcher had retreated on the previous evening.
She expected to find the place deserted, and was surprised by a whiff of
tobacco-smoke as she entered. The next moment sharply she drew back; for
a man's figure rose up from the seat under the billiard-room window on
which she had rested the previous evening. His great frame seemed to fill
the place. Dot turned to flee.
But on the instant he spoke, checking her. "Don't go for a moment! I know
what you're looking for. It's that little heart of yours. I've got it
here."
She paused almost in spite of herself. His voice was pitched very low.
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