Besides," she urged, "It's really your duty to do it, madam." Constance remembered now the rather simply but richly gowned young woman who had been standing next to her at the counter, seemingly unable to decide which of a number of beautiful rings she really wanted.

She remembered because, with her own love of beauty, she had wanted one herself, in fact had thought at the time that she, too, might have difficulty in choosing.
With the added feeling of curiosity, Constance followed the woman detective up in the elevator.
In the office, apart in a little room curiously furnished with a camera, innumerable photographs, cabinets, and filing cases, was a young woman, perhaps twenty-six or seven.

On a table before her lay a pile of laces and small trinkets.

There, too, was the beautiful diamond ring which she had hidden in her muff.

Constance fairly gasped at the sight.
The girl was sitting limply in a chair crying bitterly.