and
the beginning of Kimberley, however, things changed. New, beautiful,
big stones were coming on the market in London; jewels that needed
expert handling. And where were those experts? Alas, they were still
across the Channel, and the stones had to be shipped over to them "at
great risk and expense," as Mr. Atkinson so truly pointed out. However,
he added in happier vein, the efforts of his group to establish a new
center in London were meeting with success. His associates were
encouraging Dutch and Belgian cutters to let bygones be bygones and
emigrate once more to England.
In
thus handing the palm to the cutters of the Low Countries, Mr.
Atkinson was possibly activated by a guilty conscience; the conscience
of all knowledgeable gem men who had recently seen the Koh-i-nur. It
wasn't a thing to admit openly, but they knew it nevertheless to be
true that the Koh-i-nur, star of the crown jewels, that famous giant
that had recently come into Queen Victoria's possession after nobody
knew how many centuries' experience of blood and rapine, had been
practically ruined in the cutting. In London at that, under the very
eyes of royalty itself. It was a tricky business meddling with the
reputations of famous stones, and it was trickier yet to insinuate that
the royal family would have done better to trust such a treasure to
people who understood their business. However, there it was; the thing
was done.
Europeans
have long been more particular than Indians about diamond cutting. This
is odd, because until lately the East has been the traditional source
of the world's jewels, but it is true. Perhaps it is just that Indians
are satisfied to let well enough alone. Of course the more westernized
of the rich men of India now have their treasures cut and set as
carefully as
