"The jobber sent it up by accident," he explained;
"I can't see anything to it -- for the price; it's too
slimsy. I wouldn't advise it, Gord. Why, for
thirty dollars, and that's what it costs -- diamond
clasp, you can get a string of fish skin pearls, experts
can't tell 'em from original, as big as your finger end
that would go twice about the neck and then hang
some."

The necklace slipped coldly through Gordon Makimmon's
hand; it reminded him of a small, pearly
snake with a diamond head; it increasingly reminded
him of Meta Beggs. She loved jewelry. If
she had kissed him for a pair of silk stockings--

"I think I'll take it," he decided slowly; "I don't
know if I've got her right here in my pants."

"Now, Gordon," the other heartily reassured him,
"whenever you like. Of course it's a fine article
-- all strung on gold wire. I won't be surprised
but Lettice'll think it's elegant. I often wondered
why you didn't stop in lately and look over my stock;
ladies put a lot on such little trifles."

Meta Beggs would have to wear it under her dress
in Greenstream, he realized; perhaps she had better
not wear it at all until she was out of the valley.
He would clasp the pearls about that smooth, round
throat... The postmaster wrapped the pearls
into a small, square package, talking voluminously.
A new driver of the Stenton stage had lost a mail

[[239]]

p238 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p239w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p240

v?