“That tells me nothing. What is your all?”
“Forty pounds,” she said in a choked sort of voice.
“Were you not rather unwise to part with your last penny?”
“You don’t understand,” said Annie, who, having at last declared a part of the truth, felt better able to go on. “I have studied pearls a great deal; and Uncle Maurice, dear Uncle Maurice, has taught me their true value and something of their history, and I guessed that this was really cheap, and thought I could sell it for more.”
“By Jove!” said Mr Manchuri, “you are the sharpest girl I ever saw. How old are you?”
“Seventeen,” said Annie.
“God help the man who marries you!” said Mr Manchuri under his breath.
“What did you say?” asked Annie.
“Nothing, nothing, my dear. Of course I admire your cleverness. Well, you have come to the right person. I will give you one hundred pounds for this necklace; there, now.”
“And you won’t say anything about it?” said Annie, who felt at once faint and delighted, overpowered with joy, and yet subdued by an awful weight of apprehension.