"Oh, god," she says, tipping forward to smother a laugh against his shoulder. Sapphires, indeed. As a child, she'd dreamed of being with someone who might shower her with such riches. It's harder to imagine, now. Too many years of an unglamorous life lived; too many simpler wishes deferred or denied. What would she even do with rich jewelry, besides keep it in a box and live in constant fear of something happening to it?

"One of the dogs would probably swallow it," she declares with a rueful air, as if it couldn't be helped. "And then where would we be?"