The cross was in her possession.
Was it not necessary, then, to quiet suspicion for his sake?
She had locked the relic away in a cupboard in her bedroom, and she carried the key of it always in her pocket.

Every day she went and looked at it, as at some ghostly token.

To her it was a symbol, not of supernatural things, but of life in its new reality to her.

It was M'sieu', it was herself, it was their secret--she chafed inwardly that Margot should share a part of that secret.

If it were only between their two selves--between M'sieu' and herself! If Margot--she paused suddenly, for she was going to say, If Margot would only die! She was not wicked enough to wish that; yet in the past few weeks she had found herself capable of thinking things beyond the bounds of any past experience.
She found a solution at last.