'Yes, I understand, but I can't pronounce it like you. Take a chair, Mr. Barrack, and draw up to the table.'
The young man understood the gesture that explained the speech and sat down.
'So you're a friend of Mr. Logotheti's, and he advised you to come to me? Understand? Logotheti of Paris.'
Barak smiled again, and nodded quickly as he recognised the name. The American watched his face attentively.
'All right,' he continued. 'You can trot out your things now, right on the table-cloth here.'
He had seen enough of Indians and Mexicans in his youth to learn the simple art of using signs, and he easily made his meaning clear to his visitor. Barak produced a little leathern bag, not much bigger than an ordinary purse, and fastened with thin thongs, which he slowly untied. Mr. Van Torp watched the movements of the delicate fingers with great interest, for he was an observant man.
'With those hands,' he silently reflected, 'it's either a lady or a thief, or both.'
Barak took several little twists of tissue paper from the bag, laid them in a row on the table-cloth, and then began to open them one by one. Each tiny parcel contained a ruby, and when the young man counted them there were five in all, and they were fine stones if they were genuine; but Mr. Van Torp was neither [{111}] credulous nor easily surprised. When Barak looked to see what impression he had produced on such a desirable buyer, he was disappointed.
'Nice,' said the American carelessly; 'nice rubies, but I've seen better. I wonder if they're real, anyway. They've found out how to make them by chemistry now, you know.'
But Barak understood nothing, of course, beyond the fact that Mr. Van Torp seemed indifferent, which was a common trick of wily customers; but there was something about this one's manner that was not assumed. Barak took the finest of the stones with the tips of his slender young fingers, laid it in the palm of his other hand, and held it under Mr. Van Torp's eyes, looking at him with an inquiring expression. But the American shook his head.