“I felt sure, then, that Avery had actually found a real bargain. But I never dreamed of getting anything out of it for myself. The manager returned with, not only the gem expert, but also with the president of the company. He closed the door and locked it.
“The gem expert used all sorts of tests on the pearls and then said in a trembling tone: ‘M’sieur, I see like I nevair saw in my life! A string of perfect match pearls, each one well worth a fortune. But I see more, M’sieu! I will bring my acid to clean the engraved clasp set with diamonds. Maybe we find interesting fack.’
“Everyone felt nervous during the intermission granted us, but we said not a word to each other. Then the Frenchman returned. He was so careful, almost reverent, I should say, in touching and cleaning the clasp, that I laughed to myself at the memory of Old Izaacs shelving the pearls with a heap of junk, on a tray that was shoved on the floor under a counter.
“After many minutes of impatient waiting on our side, and as long in a most delicate cleansing process of the pearls on the part of the expert, he said: ‘Ah! Now vee zee.’
“He adjusted his eyeglass and studied the lettering on the clasp. Then he jerked forward and peered breathlessly at it again. Suddenly he dropped the necklace upon the pad and leaned back in the chair. ‘Mon Dieu!’ was all he could gasp.
“The president then caught up the pearls and adjusted the glass and studied the clasp. He also gasped and turned pale. The manager took the string from his superior and eagerly read the lettering aloud, ‘To my queen from Bonaparte.’ And then followed the date and year in tiny figures.”
Mr. Fabian smiled as he saw the impression his story had made, and waited to be asked questions concerning the pearls.
“Oh, do finish the story!” cried Eleanor.
“Were they really that famous pearl necklace?” asked Anne.
But Polly was too amazed to ask anything.