and put them on. That's what pearls want; they want
to be worn--it wakes them up. They're alive, don't you
see? How HAVE these been treated? They must have
been buried, ignored, despised. They were half-dead.
Don't you KNOW about pearls?" Mrs. Guy threw off as
she fondly fingered the necklace.
"How SHOULD I? Do YOU?"
"Everything. These were simply asleep, and from the
moment I really touched them--well," said their wearer
lovingly, "it only took one's eye!"
"It took more than mine--though I did just wonder; and
than Arthur's," Charlotte brooded. She found herself
almost panting. "Then their value--?"
"Oh their value's excellent."
The girl, for a deep contemplative moment, took another
plunge into the wonder, the beauty and the mystery. "Are
you SURE?"
Her companion wheeled round for impatience. "Sure?
For what kind of an idiot, my dear, do you take me?"
It was beyond Charlotte Prime to say. "For the same kind
as Arthur--and as myself," she could only suggest. "But
my cousin didn't know. He thinks they're worthless."
"Because of the rest of the lot? Then your cousin's an
ass. But what--if, as I understood you, he gave them to
18
HYLAND
