“Oh my!” suddenly exclaimed one of the ladies who was purchasing jewels in Pearce’s shop, “what a lovely curio! Wherever now did you get it from?”
Maggie turned and said in a low tone, “It belongs to me. It was left to me by my father.”
The man who was attending to Maggie took up the brooch and examined it carefully. He took it into another room, 128 where he subjected it to various tests. He then came back to Maggie.
“I will give you five pounds for this, miss, if you can satisfy me that you have come rightly by it.”
“Oh my!” said the American lady, drawing near, and her eyes glistening.
“What is your address, miss?”
Maggie by no means wished to give her address. “I haven’t, stolen that brooch,” she said. “It belongs to me; I have a right to sell it.”
“Of course, miss, I shall never trouble you in any way, but I really must have your address. In purchasing secondhand from young ladies like yourself it is essential that everything should be above-board and quite correct.”
“Well,” said Maggie in a hurried voice, “take the brooch and give me the money. I must get back as quickly as I can. I am one of Mrs. Ward’s pupils at Aylmer House.”
The man looked at Maggie with all respect. “And your own name?”