Good
alexandrites of any considerable size are extremely rare and fanciers
are willing to pay high prices for really fine specimens. It was I who,
more or less unwittingly, was responsible for the introduction of
synthetic alexandrites to the world's markets. The idea would never
have occurred to me ordinarily, for most of my career has been spent
with real gems and not with imitations and artificial stones. But there
used to come to my office in Hatton Garden every month or so an
analytical chemist, an exiled Russian resident in Paris, who
specialised in the manufacture of high-grade scientific rubies. If I
never bought anything from him it was not his fault, for he was an
excellent salesman for one who had divided most of his life between
laboratory and class-room.
Now
I often regretted never being able to reward with a small order the
pleasant half-hours I used to enjoy with this scholarly and cultured
man. One day when he was unusually anxious to book an order, I pointed
to a small alexandrite lying on my work-table.
"What's that?" he asked.
"It
is a compatriot of yours," I said, "but unlike you, it is a turncoat."
Then I explained to him the peculiar property of the stone.
"Show
me," said he, so I took him into a dark corner, lit a wax vesta, and
like an unfailing miracle it was a red stone that now lay in my hand
and not a green one.
"Very intriguing," he said.
"Now
if you could only turn out scientific alexandrites!" I suggested, more
than half in jest. "Why, you could book me for a bushel of them."
"I shall have a good try," he said soberly, and said no
