Elias shrugged his shoulders. 'If you bring me the ring.'
'I do not get old rings but new maidens,' Sugarman reminded him haughtily. 'However, as you are a customer——' and crying 'Five per cent. on the greengrocer's daughter,' he hurried away ere Elias had time to dissent from the bargain.
Donning his sealskin vest to overawe the Fershts, Sugarman ploughed his way up the dark staircase to their room. His attire was wasted on the family, for Fanny herself opened the door.
'Peace to you,' he cried. 'I have come on behalf of Elias Goldenberg.'
'It is useless. I will not have him.' And she was shutting the door. Her misconception, wilful or not, scattered all Sugarman's prepared diplomacies. 'He does not want you, he wants the ring,' he cried hastily.
Fanny indecorously put a finger to her nose. The diamond glittered mockingly on it. Then she turned away giggling. 'But look at this photograph!' panted Sugarman desperately through the closing door.
Surprise and curiosity brought her eyes back. She stared at the sheepish features of a frock-coated stranger.
'Four pounds a week all the year round, head cutter at S. Cohn's,' said Sugarman, pursuing this advantage. 'A good old English family; Benjamin Beckenstein is his name, and he is dying to step into Elias's shoes.'
'His feet are too large!' And she flicked the photograph floorwards with her bediamonded finger.
'But why waste the engagement-ring?' pleaded Sugarman, stooping to pick up the suitor.