The proprietor was looking at him narrowly. Libro's heart had almost stopped beating. There was the long lost quarto of "Titus Andronicus," 1594, and a perfect first edition of "Hamlet"! There were others in the volume, a veritable treasure trove. It was, in truth, a great discovery!
"What's it worth?" said Steinman.
"Something to a collector," replied Libro, honestly: "nothing to you."
"Well, if you know anyone who wants the old thing he can have it for ten dollars. I once advanced that amount on it. Since then I say, No Books!"
John Libro by a superhuman effort controlled himself.
"Steinman, I need money for food. You already have everything valuable I possess,—but this."
He took from his finger a ring. It had been his mother's wedding ring. It was the last that remained to him of his parents' legacy.
"How much will you give me on this?" he said, trembling. His very life depended upon Steinman's answer. He held his breath.
"A little less than gold-value," said Steinman. He threw it carelessly on the scales.
"Ten dollars and thirty-seven cents."