"I do, for a fact. I think it's all right."
Pointing to the library beyond, the millionaire said carelessly:
"My best things are in that room. But there are some here that are rather good, I think. Did you notice this?" He picked up from a table a piece of carved ivory and held it so that all might see. "It was carved by a Japanese master nearly eight hundred years ago."
"Did he get much for it?" asked Jimmie, opening wide his eyes.
Jimmie whistled and walked away. Contemptuously he said:
"He ought to have joined the Carvers' Union."
"There was none in those days," he said. "Even if there had been he wouldn't have joined. He was an artist; he worked for the joy of working."
"He knew his own business best, I suppose, but I've never seen a man who could raise a family on that."
Replacing the ivory back in the cabinet where it belonged, Stafford turned to the mantel and pointed to the Peach Blow vase, which only a few moments before had met with disaster. But the damage was not visible from a distance, and with the natural pride of a collector showing one of his most valued possessions, the railroad man said:
"I have one or two Peach Blows that I think are rather good. There is one up there which I am particularly fond of."
Jimmie more and more nervous gave his fiancée a nudge. In a frightened undertone he whispered to her:
To hide her confusion, Fanny pretended to be very busy with her handkerchief. Stafford, meantime, had gone up to the bookcase. Reaching up his hand so he could take hold of the vase by its neck, the millionaire went on:
His hand touched the vase, but, instead of lifting it, he simply lifted up the piece which had been broken off. For a moment he stared at the fragment in amazement, while the others looked on in silent consternation. There was an ominous pause. Jimmie, turning pale, could feel his heart thumping violently against his ribs.
"Why, it's broken!" exclaimed their host.
"Why--so it is!" gasped Fanny, on the theory that an expression of bewilderment on her part would exonerate her from suspicion.
Stafford stood still, trying to fix the two pieces together. He was quite cool and to all appearances the least concerned of the four. There was not even a note of impatience in his voice as he said: