A wave of his hand indicated the pigeonholes with which the body of the safe was fitted: wide spaces and deep, stored tight with an extraordinary array of leather jewel-cases, packets of stout paper bound with tape and sealed, and boxes of wood and pasteboard of every shape and size.
"They were only her finest pieces, her personal jewels, that Madame Omber took with her to England," he explained; "she's mad about them … never separated from them. … Perhaps the finest collection in the world, for size and purity of water. … She had the heart to leave these—all this!"
Lifting a hand he chose at random, dislodged two leather cases, placed them on the floor, and with a blade of his pen-knife forced their fastenings.
From the first the light smote radiance in blinding, coruscant welter. Here was nothing but diamond jewellery, mostly in antique settings.
He took up a piece and offered it to the girl. She drew back her hand involuntarily.
"No!" she protested in a whisper of fright.
"But just look!" he urged. "There's no danger … and you'll never see the like of this again!"
Stubbornly she withheld her hand. "No, no!" she pleaded. "I—I'd rather not touch it. Put it back. Let's hurry. I—I'm frightened."
He shrugged and replaced the jewel; then yielded again to impulse of curiosity and lifted the lid of the second case.
It contained nothing but pieces set with coloured stones of the first order—emeralds, amethysts, sapphires, rubies, topaz, garnets, lapis-lazuli, jacinthes, jades, fashioned by
