But even as he spoke, Edith Williams' hand darted to something at the back of the shelf.
"A bell carved out of crystal!" she exclaimed. "And rose-crystal at that. What could be more perfect? A rose-crystal wedding present and a rose-crystal anniversary present!"
The young man half stretched out his hand.
"I don't think you want that," he said. "It's broken."
"Broken?" Edith Williams rubbed off the dust and held the lovely bell-shape of crystal, the size of a pear, to the light. "It looks perfect to me."
"I mean it is not complete." Something of the American had vanished from the young man. "It has no clapper. It will not ring."
"Why, that's right." Mark Williams took the bell. "The clapper's missing."
"We can have another clapper made," his wife declared. "That is, if the original can't be found?"
The young Chinese shook his head.
"The bell and the clapper were deliberately separated by my father twenty years ago." He hesitated, then added: "My father was afraid of this bell."