Towards this box Sharples directed his steps, and, unlocking a hatch in the door, disclosed a recess scarcely as large, and certainly not as clean, as a dog-kennel. Unless it was a jewel or locket of some kind. Occasionally he would lean back and stare at the window which gave upon the sea. What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the divine fire was hers. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. The watcher's intake of breath was sibilant. I should have known at a glance if it was.
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