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I Pass from Paris to London 123
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choose.
I am going to attach the stone which is now under my seal in the
broker's hands. If you bring an action, I shall challenge you to
produce your books and disclose from whom you bought the stone cut, or
if in the rough, whether it was in the opinion of the man who sold it
to you likely to turn out as well as the stone under dispute. I shall
break you and you will be hounded out of the trade. Choose. Give me the
stone and you shall still have some of my work, for you are a master of
your craft and I do not believe you will deceive me again. Ça y est? Donnez-moi la main, monsieur."
I
had had more than the usual share of reverses as a broker in Paris, for
which I had had only myself to blame. However, I thought that my "luck"
would change if I changed my surroundings. Where should I go? America?
Australia? England? I had learned English; it seemed about time that I
should practise it in an English-speaking country. It was no toss of
the coin that decided me to go to London. The fare there was less than
to Perth in Western Australia, or New York.
I packed my few belongings without regret. "England is the place for me," I said.
Jet
is the stone associated with that Channel crossing. I do not remember
if it was rough or smooth, only that no less than five of the lady
passengers wore complete sets of jet ornaments. They were all
Englishwomen. Although this fashion may at that time have prevailed in
France also, I never noticed it until I came to England.
Anxious to improve my accent, I got into conversation with the husband of one of the jet-wearers. Discreetly
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