"Mr. Brooke's! What do you think I gave for it? A thousand pounds."
"A thousand pounds!"
"I think that Brooke's gone mad. He might have got ten times the sum from almost anyone. He says that he has had a sudden call abroad, and wants the cash. It's his affair, not mine. Anyhow, I've bought the diamond. I gave him what he asked for it. Here it is."
Mrs. Tyrrel laid her pile of linen on the table. She took the stone which her husband held out to her. She selected a watchmaker's glass from among several which were on the mantel-shelf. Fitting it into her eye, she examined the stone under the light of the window.
"What a beauty!" She drew it closer to her eye. "What a beautiful stone!" She turned it over and over in her hand. "What is this speck of light right in the very heart of it?"
"What speck of light?"
Mr. Tyrrel selected a glass on his own account. In his turn he examined the stone. Hardly had he fitted the glass in its place when he gave an exclamation. He went nearer to the window.
"Give me a higher power!"
She chose another glass from those upon the shelf. She noticed that her husband's face had all at once turned pale. "What is the matter?"
He made no immediate answer. But no sooner had he begun to examine his purchase with the lens of higher power than he staggered back against the wall. He took the glass out of his eye. He looked round the room like a man who had received
