She is the only girl I ever saw who seemed to me worthy of Ivor Dundas.
Early in the afternoon Raoul came, and the first thing I did was to give him the diamonds.
"You are my good angel!" he exclaimed.

"Thank Heaven, I won't have to take your money now." "All that's mine is yours," I said.
"It is _you_ I want for mine," he answered.

"When am I to have you?
Don't keep me waiting long, my darling.

I'm nothing without you." "I don't want to keep you waiting," I told him.

And indeed I longed to be his wife--his, in spite of Godensky; his, till death us should part.
He took me in his arms, and then, when I had promised to marry him as soon as a marriage could be arranged, our talk drifted back to the morning, and the note I had written, telling him that a pretty American girl had found the diamonds.
"She's engaged to marry Ivor Dundas, an old friend of mine--the poor fellow so stupidly accused of murder," I explained.