thought I should devote it all to her interests, even outside the shop.
I told her I had my own future to look to, and we often had words about
that. Last night's quarrel wasn't the first, though she was especially
bitter over my work on the lathe. I have been giving it more time than
usual because it is nearly finished, and I want to get it ready to show
at a big Eastern jewelry convention."

"And what was the talk about money?"

"Well, Mrs. Darcy owed me about a thousand dollars. I had done some
special work on making necklaces for her customers, and she had
promised, if they were pleased, to pay me extra for the exclusive
designs I got up. The customers were pleased, and they paid her extra
for the ornaments. So I demanded that she keep her promise, but she
refused, pleading that many other customers owed her and times were
hard. I needed that thousand dollars to help complete my lathe model,
and--well, we had words over that, too."

"Then, do I understand," summed up Carroll, "that the night Mrs. Darcy
was killed you had a quarrel with her over Miss Mason, and about the
money and because you spent too much time working on your patent lathe?"

"Well, yes, though I don't admit I spent too much time, and I surely
will claim she owed me that money. As for Miss Mason--I'd prefer to
have her name left out," faltered the young jeweler.

"We can't always have what we want," said Thong, dryly. "Was the
quarrel specially bitter?"

"Not any more so than others. I had to speak a little loud, for my