diamond
textbook, a nearly perfect double pyramid. It was a full inch in length
or more, and nearly an inch thick. He handed it to me and I was
surprised, as I always am with diamonds, by the unexpected heaviness of
the bit of stone. I leaned over the table and looked at the paper
wrapping. Written on it in ink were the words, "Special diamond," and
several figures scribbled underneath: the weight in carats and price
per carat.
"It's
a nice stone. You can use it," said Mr. Bentinck. "Color's against it,
of course, it's a little yellow. Though how you could have seen that
with the blind down is beyond my comprehension. I should have left it
down and charged you more. That color's the reason you'll be paying
only ninety pounds a carat instead of a hundred forty."
"I don't know," said the big man. "I'll think it over."
"Sure, you think it over," said Mr. Bentinck.
The
buyer wadded the diamond carelessly in its paper and stuffed it in his
pocket and picked up the pasteboard box and wandered from the room. Mr.
Bentinck watched him affectionately as he went.
"He always buys a lot, that fellow," he said. "One of the biggest dealers in New York. He'll be able to use that diamond."
I said, "It was called a special diamond. Does that mean it isn't a regular part of the run-of-the-mill parcels?"
"That's
right. Anything beyond a certain weight, that stands out, is sold
separately," said Mr. Bentinck. "There are only a few people who'd be
interested in that much of an investment, you see, so we show it to
them on its own."
I asked, "And that thing like a shoe box—is that a parcel?"
He assented, and I revised my ideas accordingly. In my mind
