With these words Gilead, lowering the skin for the eager scrutiny of his two guests, laid open the body, and showed them how the whole cavity of the skull was filled with a single dark stone, which, projecting to the sockets, seemed to form the eyes. Then, delicately inserting a finger and thumb, he produced the gem for their inspection.
“It is an incomparable sapphire,” he said—“in a fine state always one of the most precious of precious stones. This example may be pronounced, in bulk and depth of colour, no less than superlative.”
As he spoke, his man entered the room.
“What is it, David?” he exclaimed.
“A lady to see you, sir.”
“What name, man? Why don’t you show her in?”
“Hearing you had visitors, sir, she begged if you would come to her instead.”
He proffered a card.
“It is Mrs Barclay Rivers herself,” said Gilead, turning gleefully to his guests. “I had half-expected her. Excuse me a moment.”
As he left the room, Miss Halifax, with a heart-felt sigh, turned to the secretary.