Mary Roberts Rinehart

“ Elinor's eyes were pitiful. . "Wouldn't any other pearl do?"
He glanced down at her quizzically.
"Where's your mind, Elinor? If you lose a dog and want it back, will any other dog do? Why? Do you want the thing yourself?"
"I have given it away," said Elinor.
Under his golf tan Talbot turned rather gray.
"To whom?"
"The jewels were always mine," protested Elinor, defending herself. "You have always told me that. I thought I had a right—"
"To whom?"
"I put it in the alms-box at Saint Jude's this morning." ”

“ It was only when he looked at Ward that his eyes hardened.
This man who bad come between him and his girl—this white-handed, surpliced, prayer-reading priest, who in a dozen words could compel the people before him to lay a fortune at his feet—Huff ground his teeth together. But something of unwilling admiration was mixed up with his scorn. This was no mean adversary, this Ward; a man, every inch of him. He would beat him out if he had to kill him to do it.
Huff stayed in church after the service. He accosted Mr. Bryant, one of the vestrymen, as the congregation filed out. ”

“ Bryant rose.
"It shows how demoralizing such things are, she said. "I I assure you that I never look at a woman's throat these days without expecting to see my pearl."
From that dangerous ground she stepped quickly to the burning of the parish house, which she believed was the work of militant suffragettes.
"The dear rector is not a feminist," she said. "His assistant, I fear, has a strong tendency in that direction. But he is a wonderful person, really. Just imagine, seventy-eight thousand dollars was collected in Saint Jude's church this morning for rebuilding the parish house!" ”