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Allen, Grant, 1848-1899

"Episodes in the Life of the Illustrious Colonel Clay"

"And zese," he cried,
transported, "haff gost me no more zan tree and eightbence!"
They were handed round for inspection. Rough and uncut as they
stood, it was, of course, impossible to judge of their value. But
one thing was certain. The men of science had been watching close at
the first, and were sure Herr Schleiermacher had not put the stones
in; they were keen at the withdrawal, and were equally sure he had
taken them honestly out of the pannikins.
"I vill now disdribute zem," the Professor remarked in a casual
tone, as if diamonds were peas, looking round at the company. And
he singled out my brother-in-law. "One to Sir Charles!" he said,
handing it; "one to Mr. Mosenheimer; one to Mr. Phibson--as
representing the tiamond interest. Zen, one each to Sir Atolphus,
to Dr. Gray, to Mr. Fane-Fiffian, as representing science. You will
haff zem cut and rebort upon zem in due gourse. We meet again at
zis blace ze day afder do-morrow."
Charles gazed at him reproachfully. The profoundest chords of his
moral nature were stirred. "Professor," he said, in a voice of
solemn warning, "_Are_ you aware that, _if_ you have succeeded, you
have destroyed the value of thousands of pounds' worth of precious
property?"
The Professor shrugged his shoulders. "Fot is dat to me?" he
inquired, with a curious glance of contempt.


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