"The same what?" she asked.
"The same treasure that I gave Cora for a heirloom," he answered, his jaws
like a rat-trap.
"You gave Cora!" gasped Mary Jane. "What stuff are you telling?"
And then the woman in her conquered, because she knew the value of things
as well as another.
"And a treasure it ain't any way," went on Mary Jane, "because a few
shillings would buy it. But Nicholas is poor and 'tis the thought behind
that I value."
"Damn the thought behind!" thundered out James. "It weren't his to give,
you silly owl. This was my gift to Cora Dene, and not a month ago,
neither."
"Nonsense!" she answered. "There might be fifty like it."
But he knew better, because he'd marked the thing very close when he
bought it, and there was a stain in the amber which had knocked off two
bob.
He said no more but ate his poached eggs and cleaned up the plate after
with a piece of bread, according to his habit. Then he drank his tea, and
ten minutes later he was off on his pony to old Mrs. Dene's house to have
a tell with his sweetheart. And nobody ever went to the woman of his
choice in such a foaming passion as Jimmy White that fine morning.
There was another outlet for Cora's remorseless and far-reaching
activities at this time besides James, for the woman had an uncanny power
of looking far ahead and, while she'd planned the affair of the amber
heart outside her home, she was also working very hard within it.
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