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"Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. More than ever Sir John was glad that he had sat down. It was a precious thing, a beautiful cabochon—do you know what that is?” “What’s a cabochon?” “It’s a precious jewel that doesn’t have facets yet. ’ Gerald started. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. What is it that you wish from me? You would like to arrest me for spying? Very well, arrest me.
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