That effect itself somehow prompted her to further freedom and presently to saying: "I don't believe in this, you know." It brought Maggie round to her.

"Don't believe in it?
You will when I tell you." "Ah, tell me nothing! I won't have it," said Mrs.Assingham.She kept the cup in her hand, held it there in a manner that gave Maggie's attention to her, she saw the next moment, a quality of excited suspense.

This suggested to her, oddly, that she had, with the liberty she was taking, an air of intention, and the impression betrayed by her companion's eyes grew more distinct in a word of warning.

"It's of value, but its value's impaired, I've learned, by a crack." "A crack ?--in the gold-- ?" "It isn't gold." With which, somewhat strangely, Maggie smiled.
"That's the point." "What is it then ?" "It's glass--and cracked, under the gilt, as I say, at that." "Glass ?--of this weight ?" "Well," said Maggie, "it's crystal--and was once, I suppose, precious.
But what," she then asked, "do you mean to do with it ?" She had come away from her window, one of the three by which the wide room, enjoying an advantageous "back," commanded the western sky and caught a glimpse of the evening flush; while Mrs.Assingham, possessed of the bowl, and possessed too of this indication of a flaw, approached another for the benefit of the slowly-fading light.

Here, thumbing the singular piece, weighing it, turning it over, and growing suddenly more conscious, above all, of an irresistible impulse, she presently spoke again.