Rosenthal turned to me. There was a curious, baffled look in his mottled eyes, but he said nothing. I also remained silent. The dealer looked from one to the other of us with a pale, agitated face.
"Of course," said he, "when a lady is unfortunately compelled to part with her jewels, she does not care to have them recognised elsewhere. I quite understood this, and although I bought the pearls outright, I had no intention of not keeping my verbal agreement. But when I came to make the substitution, I found that I had nothing available with which to replace a few of the larger pearls, which are uncommonly fine. Nevertheless, I should have held strictly to my word had the purchaser been any other than Baron Rosenthal." He turned to me with a look of entreaty. "M. le Baron," said he, "is one of my most valued customers. When he assured me that the rope was for his wife and that he was leaving to-night for Buda Pest, I was so weak as to sell the string as it was. It was very wrong of me and I am desolated. If there is any thing that I can do in the way of making amends, rest assured, M. Cuttynge, I will do it, even at a considerable personal sacrifice."
He paused and took out his handkerchief. Rosenthal sat heavy and immobile. I said nothing, but drummed on the table with my fingers.
The dealer looked from one to the other of us. Being French, he did not wait for us to speak, feeling, perhaps, that it would only be to hear something disagreeable.
