Victor took his place at the desk on which McLagan was sitting and pushed a box of cigars at his guest. He sat back in his chair while the other lit up and regarded him thoughtfully.
“Well?” he demanded, with his hands clasped across his rotund body. “Get busy with those questions.”
“There’s more than one colour to gold?”
“Yes. Quite a number of shades in raw gold.”
“Governed by the locality in which it’s found?”
“Surely. The formations. Reef gold. Alluvial. The copperous qualities of quartz. The climated conditions of the various latitudes in which it is found. A whole heap of influences affect the shades of colour.”
McLagan nodded.
“Now Alaskan gold?”
“It varies the same as the rest.”
“Could you tell Alaskan gold from tropical gold?”