I think the time has arrived when the jewels should, so to speak, be resurrected; that they should pass into your possession." Miriam's heart beat fast; but the flush of gratification did not rise to her face, for she was thinking of the base, the nefarious uses to which her husband would put these historic jewels.
"Indeed, they almost belong to you by right," said the Marquess.

"They have always gone with the title." His voice grew gradually slower, and presently he stopped and looked straight before him, as if he had forgotten her presence.

Indeed, he had done so; for as he spoke of the title, there rose suddenly, like a cinematograph film thrown on the screen, the bent figure, grey face and piercing eyes of the real owner of the title.

Not for the first time, he, the false Marquess, was giving away that which belonged to the shabbily-dressed old man who had refused to accept the position which was his by right of inheritance.

The pause was a momentary one only, and the Marquess went on, "I am a widower; fortunately, Percy is married, and the family jewels really belong to you.