“Then,” proceeded Susan, “there are men, Jews, most of them, who lend ornaments to my missis, which she hires out to her ladies.”
Susan’s eyes shone very brightly when she revealed this little secret to her country friend.
“Another time you shall tell me more about these jewellers,” I replied. “But they surely would be the least honest of all, and could not help us to-day. Susan, you must think again.”
“I know an apprentice,” said Susan. “And he’s very clever, and—and—wonderful on stones, Miss Rosamund.”
“Ah, I thought you were the girl for me to come to, Susan. This apprentice is just the person whom we want. Where does he live?”
“Well, miss, if you’ll come with me now we’ll catch him just before he goes to his dinner. Sam is honest, if you like, miss, blunt I call him.”
“Take me to Sam without a moment’s delay,” I said.
We walked quickly, and presently found ourselves in Hanway Street. We turned into a small shop. A lad of about twenty was selling a china cup and saucer to an old lady.
The shop was full of all kinds of dirty, quaint, curious things. It reminded me a little bit of Cousin Geoffrey’s house. The lad had red hair; he winked at Susan, and I saw at once that I was in the presence of Sam.
Presently the lady customer left the shop in a considerable huff, and without the cup and saucer.