"I wish to see him."
Another presently appeared: a respectable-looking, well-dressed man, of good manners.
"I am in temporary need of a little money, and wish to borrow some upon my jewels," began Mrs. Dalrymple, in a hoarse whisper; and she was really so agitated as scarcely to know what she said.
"Are they of value?" he inquired.
"Some hundreds of pounds. I have them with me."
He requested her to walk into a private room, and placed a chair. She sat down and laid the jewels on the table. He examined them in silence, one after another, not speaking until he had gone through the whole.
"What did you wish to borrow on them?"
"As much as I can," replied Mrs. Dalrymple. "I thought about four hundred pounds."
"Four hundred pounds!" echoed the pawnbroker. "Madam, they are not worth, for this purpose, more than a quarter of the money."
She stared at him in astonishment. "They are real."