"Yes, and I am just as astonished by your report," his companion said, lifting the cover of the box and gazing upon the blazing stones. "They do look wonderfully real," she added, "and yet I can hardly believe, Mr. Cutler, that any one would be willing to purchase them and give me the value of diamonds."
"But the gentleman to whom I submitted them—a jeweler and an expert—made me an offer for them," and he named the sum.
"So much?" murmured the fair woman, flushing. "Ah, it would be such a help."
"This offer," Mr. Cutler resumed, "is to remain open to you for three days, and you can take them to him within that time if you see fit, and Mr. Arnold will give you the money."
Mrs. Bently made a sudden gesture of repulsion, her head drooped, a flush swept up to her brow, and tears rushed to her eyes.
"Poor little woman!" said Justin Cutler to himself, "it humiliates her to think of selling her jewels—of course it must."
Then he asked, after a moment of thought:
"Would you accept the amount that Mr. Arnold offered?"
"Why, yes, if—if you are sure that they are real, and think it would be right for me to do so," she answered, with a somewhat troubled expression on her fair face.
"Of course it will be perfectly right; the man knew what he was talking about, for, as I told you, he is a diamond expert, and he examined them with the utmost care."