Mr. Wraxall brushed the suggestion aside.
“Photographs would be no use to me. They haven’t the appeal. No.”
He paused for a moment; then, studying her face, he continued:
“I thought of taking the thing itself back with me in the fall, if it could be arranged.”
“The Dangerfield Talisman?” Mrs. Brent almost lost her manners in her astonishment. “You thought of taking that back with you! Why, the thing’s absurd. They’d sooner part with Friocksheim than with the Talisman; and they’ve held Friocksheim since before the Conquest.”
“I wouldn’t stick at a few thousand pounds one way or the other. I’d set my heart on getting that Talisman. I’ve come four thousand miles for it, specially. That shows I’m interested. I’m keenly interested. I’m not a bargainer. They’ve only to name their price and I’ll pay it.”
“But, my dear man, this isn’t a case where money comes in at all, don’t you see? The thing’s unbuyable, you may take my word for it.”
The American scanned her face carefully.
“I see you mean it,” he commented, “but I came here specially to procure that Talisman. I couldn’t be content to take your word for it. Maybe you’re right. Perhaps you know best. But I’ll have to go to headquarters with my offer and make sure. I’m not doubting what you say. Not at all. I hadn’t a notion there was any difficulty in the road. None at all. But you’ll understand that, without doubting what you say in the very least, I’ve got to make sure?”
Mrs. Brent had recovered from her astonishment.