the corner at the farther end was an open door into an inner room, where there was also a light.
Deronda took in these details by parenthetic glances while he met Jacob's pressing solicitude about the knife. He had taken the pains to buy one with the requisites of the hook and white handle, and produced it on demand, saying—
"Is that the sort of thing you want, Jacob?"
It was subjected to a severe scrutiny, the hook and blades were opened, and the article of barter with the cork-screw was drawn forth for comparison.
"Why do you like a hook better than a cork-screw?" said Deronda.
"'Caush I can get hold of things with a hook. A cork-screw won't go into anything but corks. But it's better for you, you can draw corks."
"You agree to change, then?" said Deronda, observing that the grandmother was listening with delight.
"What else have you got in your pockets?" said Jacob, with deliberative seriousness.
"Hush, hush, Jacob, love," said the grand-mother. And Deronda, mindful of discipline, answered—
"I think I must not tell you that. Our business was with the knives."
