“This is the first opportunity. I have been occupied in other parts of the world,” said Dyke, with a very modest air.
Mr. Cunlip then wished to know how he could avail himself of the opportunity, now that it had come, by being of service to Mr. Dyke.
“Something to show you,” said Dyke modestly.
He had brought from his waistcoat pocket a small envelope; he opened this, extracted a tiny packet of tissue paper, and after unfolding the paper, rolled out upon the top of a glass case what looked like five or six greenish pebbles, each about the size of a pea. Then he spoke in a tone that had changed from extreme modesty to almost aggressive triumph.
“What do you call those?”
Mr. Cunlip put a magnifying glass in his eye, and examined a stone carefully before he answered.
“I call this one an emerald. What do you call it?”
“I call it the same,” said Dyke jovially. “And the others too. Emeralds, my dear Cunlip—and beauties, eh? The real article.”
“Do you want me to weigh ’em up and name a price?” asked Mr. Cunlip.
“No. That’ll come later. What I want now is just your opinion—expert advice. Suppose—I say suppose, later on, I began to dribble them across to you! How many could you do with like that?”