“Are these ordinary sapphires?” she said. “What year was 221 that, about 1350?” He asked in wonderment. " "Where's Mr. ‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. She explained she was expecting an important interview, and asked that her visitor should be duly shown in. The air was thick with feelings. The room behind was another small antechamber, presumably linking the back rooms. Slowly a mirthless and very unpleasant smile dawned upon his face.
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