"But, Countess, if you will just consider for one moment. You are actually accusing us of selling to you diamonds which we know to be false."
"Whether you knew them to be false or not is more than I can say. All I know is that I bought a set of diamond ornaments from you, for which you charged me eight hundred pounds, and which Mr. Ahrens says are not worth eight hundred pence."
"Mr. Ahrens must be dreaming."
"Oh no, he's not. I don't believe that Mr. Ahrens ever dreams."
Mr. Golden, who was standing observantly by, addressed an inquiry to the excited lady. "Where are the diamonds now?"
"The diamonds, as you call them, and which I don't believe are diamonds, since Mr. Ahrens says they're not, and I'm sure he ought to know, are in this case."
The Countess of Grinstead produced from her muff one of those flat leather cases in which jewellers love to enshrine their wares.
Mr. Golden held out his hand for it.
"Permit me for one moment, Countess."
The Countess handed him the case. Mr. Golden opened it. Mr. Ruby, leaning back in his chair, watched his partner examine the contents. The Countess watched him too. Mr. Golden took out one glittering ornament after another. Through a little microscope he peered into its inmost depths. He turned it over and over, and peered and peered, as though he would read its very heart. When he had concluded his examination he turned to the lady.