The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 03, No. 16, February, 1859 by Various
page 44 of 299 (14%)
page 44 of 299 (14%)
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See! All that is here would not bring a hundredth part of its price. I
beseech Monsieur to believe me; he has mistaken the number, or has been misinformed." "We waste words. I know this diamond is here, as well as a costly chain"-- "On my soul, on my life, on my honor," he cried, clasping his hands and turning up his eyes, "there is here nothing of the kind. I do not deal in gems. A little silk, a few weapons, a curiosity, a nicknack, comprise my stock. I have not the diamond. I do not know the thing. I am poor. I am honest. Suspicion destroys me!" "As you will find, should I be longer troubled by your denials." He was inflexible, and, having exhausted every artifice of innocence, wiped the tears from his eyes,--oh, these French! life is their theatre,--and remained quiet. It was getting dark. There was no gas in the place; but in the pause a distant street-lamp swung its light dimly round. "Unless one desires to purchase, allow me to say that it is my hour for closing," he remarked, blandly, rubbing his black-bearded chin. "My time is valuable," I returned. "It is late and dark. When your shop-boy lights up"---- "Pardon,--we do not light." "Permit me, then, to perform that office for you. In this blaze you may |
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