“When are you off?”

“On the fourteenth.”

“Oh, that will be all right. These things take a long time to mature. By the way, Ruth, I shouldn’t take those rubies abroad if I were you. Leave them at the bank.”

Mrs. Kettering nodded.

“We don’t want to have you robbed and murdered for the sake of ‘Heart of Fire,’ ” said the millionaire jocosely.

“And yet you carried it about in your pocket loose,” retorted his daughter, smiling.

“Yes⁠—”

Something, some hesitation, caught her attention.

“What is it, Dad?”