And this pendant, too: it would have been a pity to lose it. Upon my
word, I ought to have handed him over to the police."

"No, no!" cried Sonia. "You did quite right to let him off--quite
right,"

The Duke set the pendant on the ledge of the bureau, and came down
the hall to Sonia.

"What's the matter?" he said gently. "You're quite pale."

"It has upset me . . . that unfortunate boy," said Sonia; and her
eyes were swimming with tears.

"Do you pity the young rogue?" said the Duke.

"Yes; it's dreadful. His eyes were so terrified, and so boyish. And,
to be caught like that . . . stealing . . . in the act. Oh, it's
hateful!"

"Come, come, how sensitive you are!" said the Duke, in a soothing,
almost caressing tone. His eyes, resting on her charming, troubled
face, were glowing with a warm admiration.

"Yes; it's silly," said Sonia; "but you noticed his eyes--the hunted
look in them? You pitied him, didn't you? For you are kind at
bottom."

"Why at bottom?" said the Duke.