I weighed about one-third as much as he, which was in my favour if I chose to throw dignity to the winds.
As I whisked away from him, he caught me by the dress, and I heard the gathers rip. I had to stop. I could n't arrive at the hotel without a skirt.
"You 're a cad—a cad!" I stammered.
"And you 're a fool. Look here, I can lose you your job and have you sent to the prison where naughty girls go. See what I 've got in my pocket."
Still grasping my frock, he scooped something out of an inner pocket of his coat, and held it for me to look at, in the hollow of his palm. I gave a little cry. It was Lady Turnour's gorgeous bursting sun.
"I nicked that off the dressin' table the other night, when you were n't looking. Has Lady T. been askin' for it?"
"No," I answered, speaking more to myself than to him. "She—she's had too much to think of. She did n't count her things that night; and at Nevers she did n't open the bag."
"So much the worse for you, my pet, when she does find out. She left her jewels in your charge. When I came into the room, they were all lyin' about on the dressin' table, and you were playin' with 'em."
"I was putting them back into her bag."
"So you say. Jolly careless of you not to know you had n't put this thing back. It 's about the best of the lot she had n't got plastered on for the servants' ball."
"It was careless," I admitted. "But it was your fault. You came in, and were so horrid, and upset me
