Mr. Cox made no immediate reply to this, and there was a pause. The open box lay before him. He took up the necklace and examined its clasp.
'I will lend you a sovereign upon them.'
She lifted her face pitiably, and the tears glistened in her eyes.
'It would be of no use to me,' she whispered. 'I want the money for a particular purpose, otherwise I should never have brought here these gifts of my mother's. She gave them to me the day I was eighteen, and I have tenderly kept them from desecration.'
Poor Mary! From desecration!
'I have heard her say what they cost; but I forget now. I know it was over ten pounds.'
'But the day for this fashion has gone by. To ask four pounds upon them was preposterous; and you would know it to be so, were you acquainted with the trade.'
'Will you lend me two pounds, then?'
The tone was tremblingly eager, the face beseeching—a wan face, telling of the coming grave. Possibly the thought struck the pawnbroker, and awoke some humanity within him.
'I shall lose by it, I know, if it comes to a sale. I'd not do it for anybody else, Miss Baxendale.'