She stared at him. “I don’t understand.”
“No, of course you don’t. But in the’eighties you used to come from the islands with your family and stop at the Palace Hotel. And I—I was a bell-hop at that same hotel. I often saw you there—I saw you once when you were wearing that famous necklace. I thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world—oh, why not—we’re both—er—”
“We’re both old now,” she said softly.
“Yes—that’s what I mean. I worshipped you, but I—I was a bell-hop—you looked through me—you never saw me. A bit of furniture, that’s all I was to you. Oh, I tell you, it hurt my pride—a deep wound, as I said. I swore I’d get on—I knew it, even then. I’d marry you. We can both smile at that now. It didn’t work out—even some of my schemes never worked out. But today I own your pearls—they’ll hang about my daughter’s neck. It’s the next best thing. I’ve bought you out. A deep wound in my pride, but healed at last.”
She looked at him, and shook her head. Once she might have resented this, but not now. “You’re a strange man,” she said.
“I am what I am,” he answered. “I had to tell you. Otherwise the triumph would not have been complete.”
Eden came in. “Here you are, Mr. Madden. If you’ll sign this—thank you.”
“You’ll get a wire,” said Madden. “In New York, remember, and nowhere else. Good day.” He turned to Madame Jordan and held out his hand.
She took it, smiling. “Good-bye. I’m not looking through you now. I see you at last.”
“And what do you see?”
