The mantilla was of no value to him, nor, for that matter, to Lady Barbara.

He would pawn it not alone for the sake of the money it would bring him, to tide him over his troubles until he could recover his losses--only a question of days, perhaps hours--but because, by means of the transaction, he would be enabled to restore harmony to a home which, through the obstinacy of a woman on whom he had squandered every penny he possessed in the world, had been temporarily broken up.
Should she rebel and refuse to join him--and she unquestionably had that right--he would carry out a plan which had come to him in a flash when he first picked it up.

He would pawn it for what it would bring and, watching his chance some day when Lady Barbara was out at work, force his way into the apartment, slip the pawn-ticket where it could easily be found--behind the china or in among her sewing materials--and with that as proof, charge her with having stolen the lace, threatening her with exposure unless she yielded.

If she relented, he would destroy the ticket and let the matter drop; if she continued obstinate, he would charge her companion with being an accessory.

The woman was evidently befriending Lady Barbara for what she could get out of her.