“Now, is not that beautiful!” exclaimed the jeweler. “What a gem! The finest of any that I have imported yet, and it fits as though it had been ordered for her.” He cast a persuasive smile upon Walton whose interest in the fair Beppie he well knew. The latter pretended not the slightest understanding.
“It is well cut,” she said.
“And the loveliest you have ever worn,” added Walton hopefully.
By her side, in front of the counter and between their bodies, he was endeavoring to take her free hand.
“Let it stay,” he said gently, when he had secured it, and was signalling the significance of the ring to her fingers.
“Oh,” she said, smiling as if she were only jesting, “you are too daring. I might!”
“Do,” he answered.
“Such a ring!” said the jeweler.
“I will then,” said she.
“Then, Master Maton,” said Walton, “you need only send the bill to me,” and he laughed as he pushed the remaining display away.