"Why, it did look pretty tidy—in the shop, sir,—to me, and Peterday. My comrade has a sharp eye, and a sound judgment in most things, sir—and we took—a deal of trouble in selecting it. But now—when it comes to—giving it to Her,—why it looks—uncommon small, and mean, sir."
"A ruby, and two diamonds, and very fine stones, too, Sergeant!"
"So I made so bold as to—come here sir," pursued the Sergeant still interested in the foliage above, "half an hour afore my usual time—to ask you, sir—if you would so far oblige me—as to—hand it to her—when I'm gone, sir."
"Lord, no!" said Bellew, smiling and shaking his head, "not on your life, Sergeant! Why man it would lose half its value in her eyes if any other than you gave it to her. No Sergeant, you must hand it to her yourself, and, what's more, you must slip it upon her finger."
"Good Lord! sir!" exclaimed the Sergeant, "I could never do that!"
"Oh yes you could!"
"Not unless you—stood by me—a force in reserve, as it were, sir."
"I'll do that willingly, Sergeant."
"Then—p 'raps sir—you might happen to know—which finger?"
"The third finger of the left hand, I believe Sergeant."