"Hold out your skirts, Sophy!" cried Nicholas Jelnik, and poured the
glittering things into my lap, boyishly. He was beautiful again,
radiant and young-eyed as the choiring cherubim. There were two
exquisite, pear-shaped ear-ring drops among the Hynds jewels, and
these he took, threaded upon my chain on either side the broken
coin, and hung around my neck. He held a ruby against my lip and
turquoises near my eyes, and laughed.
"These for Hynds House, Sophy!" he cried, and laughed again to see
my lips tremble. "What? It is not these you want? Choose for
yourself, then. I promised you the best of them, you know."
"I want none of them," I said.
"No? Take them, then, Achmet, and put them away," said Mr. Jelnik,
in a matter-of-fact voice. "You will guard them for me, for the time
being. And tell Daoud I have changed my mind about sending him away.
He can change his about shaving his beard, and save himself the
trouble of begging his way to Mecca."
I stood up in silence, and held out my skirt apron-wise, while The
Jinnee as silently removed the Hynds jewels. Then he tied the
buckskin bag, concealed it in a fold of his robe, and left the room.
Pages:
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377