“We can’t tell you that either,” said Cyril; and Anthea said, “Here is our charm,” and held it out.
With politeness, but without interest, the gentleman took it. But after the first glance all his body suddenly stiffened, as a pointer’s does when he sees a partridge.
“Excuse me,” he said in quite a changed voice, and carried the charm to the window.
He looked at it; he turned it over. He fixed his spy-glass in his eye and looked again. No one said anything. Only Robert made a shuffling noise with his feet till Anthea nudged him to shut up.
At last the learned gentleman drew a long breath.
“Where did you find this?” he asked.
“We didn’t find it. We bought it at a shop. Jacob Absalom the name is—not far from Charing Cross,” said Cyril.
“We gave seven-and-sixpence for it,” added Jane.
“It is not for sale, I suppose? You do not wish to part with it? I ought to tell you that it is extremely valuable—extraordinarily valuable, I may say.”
“Yes,” said Cyril, “we know that, so of course we want to keep it.”