She had been thinking all the evening how pleased he would be when she returned it, and in her chagrin had not noticed the mental storm he was trying to master.
"And ye're sure ye didn't drop it ?" she reiterated.
"Quite sure," he answered slowly, his face still in the shadow, the link still in his hand.
"Well, that's the strangest thing I ever heard! We don't have nobody--we ain't never had nobody up in that room with things on 'em like that.

The fellow that John and I fired didn't have no sleeve-buttons." "Perhaps somebody else may have dropped it," he answered, sinking into a chair.

He was devouring her face, trying to read behind her eyes, praying she would go on, yet fearing to prolong the inquiry lest she should discover his agitation.
"No, there ain't nobody," she said at last, "and if there was there wouldn't--Stop! Hold on a minute, I got it! You've bin here six months or more, ain't ye ?" Felix nodded, his eyes still fastened on her own.

A nod was better than the spoken word until his voice obeyed him the better.
"An' ye ain't had a soul in that room but yerself since ye've been here?
Is that true ?" Again Felix nodded.
"Of course it's true, whether ye say it or not.

What a fool I was to ask ye! I got it now.