“I think so.”
It was an hour before I returned. The assistant was standing at the door of the office. He spoke something to the one inside and then made an indication to myself. He seemed excited; when I came closer I noted that his face was full of wonder.
“We've been waiting,” said he. “We didn't examine the stone; it wasn't necessary. It is truly wonderful.” He was a short, squat man with a massive forehead. “Just step inside.”
Inside the office the jeweller was sitting beside a table; he was leaning back in his chair; he had his hands clasped over his stomach. He was gazing toward the ceiling; his face was a study, full of wonder and speculation.
“Well?” I asked.
For an answer he merely raised his finger, pointed towards the ceiling.
“Up there,” he spoke. “Your jewel or whatever it is. A good thing we weren't in open air. 'Twould be going yet.”
I looked up. Sure enough, against the ceiling was the gem. It was a bit disconcerting, though I will confess that in the first moment I did not catch the full significance.
The jeweller closed one eye and studied first myself and then the beautiful thing against the ceiling.
“What do you make of it?” he asked.