off her neck, made of chamois leather … a purse stuffed full of something … but I didn’t look in it; I suppose I hadn’t time. … And the things—chains and trinkets—I buried under a stone with the purse next morning in a yard off the V⸺ Prospect. They are all there now. …”
Sonia strained every nerve to listen.
“Then why … why, you said you did it to rob, but you took nothing?” she asked quickly, catching at a straw.
“I don’t know. … I haven’t yet decided whether to take that money or not,” he said, musing again; and, seeming to wake up with a start, he gave a brief ironical smile.
“Ach, what silly stuff I am talking, eh?”
The thought flashed through Sonia’s mind, wasn’t he mad? But she dismissed it at once. > “No, it was something else.” She