"I—er—only wished to obtain some information, sir," he answered.
Like all others, the shopman was amazed by the difference between the boy's manners and his appearance.
"Information," he repeated, in his surprise. "What information can we give you?"
The wealth of the firm oppressed this man. He could only speak in accents of adulation where the shop was concerned.
Philip produced his white pebble.
"What is this?" he said.
The directness of the query again took his hearer aback. Without a word, he bent and examined the stone. Professional instinct mastered all other considerations.
"You must apply to that department." He majestically waved his hand toward a side counter. Philip obeyed silently, and approached a small, elderly personage, a man with clever, kindly eyes, who was submitting to microscopical examination a number of tiny stones spread out on a chamois leather folding case. He quietly removed the case when his glance rested on the boy.
"Well?" he said, blankly, wondering why on earth the skilled shop-walker had sent such a disreputable urchin to him. Philip was now quite collected in his wits. He held out the pebble, with a more detailed statement.
"I found this," he said. "I thought that it might be valuable, and a friend advised me to bring it here. Will you kindly tell me what it is?"