She pulled a package from the back of the drawer, opened it and Cañuela saw that it was a small china figure.
It had been one of a pair and, when dusting in Lionel Arlington’s study, she had dropped one into the fireplace and burst into tears at her own carelessness.
“Signor – Signor – forgive me!” she had cried.
“Don’t worry, Maria,” Lionel Arlington replied. “To tell the truth I did not care for those china figures.”
“I will buy you another, signor. I will save out of my wages.”
“You will do nothing of the sort,” he answered. “Instead you will oblige me by taking away the figure that is left. In that way neither of us will remember the accident.”
Maria had been persuaded to do what he wanted with some reluctance while she still wept over her carelessness.
“I keep it always in the
