“No; supposing I wished to sell them.”
“I know very well who would buy them,” exclaimed M. Faucheux.
“That is the very thing I ask. They could be sold, then?”
“All your jewels could be sold, madame. It is well known that you possess the most beautiful jewels in Paris. You are not changeable in your tastes; when you make a purchase it is of the very best; and what you purchase you do not part with.”
“What could these emeralds be sold for, then?”
“A hundred and thirty thousand francs.”
The marquise wrote down upon her tablets the amount which the jeweler mentioned. “The ruby necklace?” she said.
“Are they balas-rubies, madame?”
“Here they are.”
“They are beautiful—magnificent. I did not know that your ladyship had these stones.”