"What do you want me to do?" I said. "Lend you the money? "
"No,
I'd rather owe the bank than my best friend. I want to know what you
think of it. Was I justified in putting myself into a hole over it?"
"How can I tell until I know what you paid."
"Five thousand pounds," he said. "It's a lot for an eight-carat stone."
"I've
not been handling first-grade rubies much lately," said I. "But yours
seems to be a top-notcher, though too dear, in my opinion."
Secretly
I thought better of the stone than I let on, but when Jacob saw that I
was not going to give myself away, he pocketed the stone and we drifted
into a general talk on rubies.
"What
a vogue they are having," said Jacob. "Burma rubies, that is. It beats
me why Siam and spinel rubies aren't keeping pace with the Burmas.
They're good enough stones, after all."
"Yes,
but you wouldn't pay much of a price for them yourself," I said. "Burma
rubies get the big prices because they've got the hardness and
refractive power and charm."
"Textbook
stuff," he said contemptuously. "I know all that. But what makes the
fashion for one gem one year and for a different gem the next? Why
should rubies be in now and soon maybe pearls or emeralds again? I've
never got to the bottom of that."
"Because the women say so," I said with a laugh. "Did you think it was the jewellers or the dealers who made the prices?"
