‘Yes, of course,’ said Lucian; ‘it’ll be rather jolly if there’s a profit on them. Oh yes, we must sell them. I can’t afford to lock up six thousand in precious stones, you know, and of course we can’t let Darlington pay for them. I wonder what they really are worth? What a lark if we got, say, ten thousand for them!’ Then he wandered into an account of how a friend of his had once picked up a ring at one of the stalls on the Ponte Vecchio in Florence, and had subsequently sold it for just ten times as much as he had given for it. He laughed very much in telling his wife this story, for it had certain amusing points in it, and Haidee laughed too, but if Lucian had been endowed with a better understanding of women he would have known that she was neither amused nor edified. CHAPTER XXIII Lucian came down to breakfast next morning equipped for his journey to Simonstower. He was in good spirits: the day was bright and frosty, and he was already dreaming of the village and the snow-capped hills beyond it. In dressing he had thought over his plans, and had decided that he was now quite reconciled to the drastic measures which Sprats had proposed. He would clear off all his indebtedness to Darlington, pay whatever bills might be owing, and make a fresh start, this time on the lines of strict economy, forethought, and prudence. He had very little conception of the real meaning of these important qualities, but he had always admired them in the abstract, and he now intended to form an intimate acquaintance with them. ‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said, as he faced Haidee at the breakfast-table and spread out the _Morning Post_, ‘that when I have readjusted everything we shall be much better off than I thought. Those diamonds make a big difference, Haidee. In fact we shall have, or we ought to have, quite a decent little capital, and we’ll invest it in something absolutely safe and sound. I’ll ask Darlington’s advice about that, and we’ll never touch it. The interest and the royalties will yield an income which will be quite sufficient for our needs--you can live very cheaply in Italy.’ ‘Then you are still bent on going to Italy--to Florence?’ she asked calmly. ‘Certainly,’ he replied. ‘It’s the best thing we can do. I’m looking forward to it. After all, why should we be encumbered as we are at present with an expensive house, a troop of servants, and all the rest of it? We don’t really want them. Has it never occurred to you that all these things are something like the shell which the snail has to carry on his back and can’t get away from? Why should a man carry a big shell on his back? It’s all very well talking about the advantages and comforts of having a house of one’s own, but it’s neither an advantage nor a comfort to be tied to a house nor to anything that clogs one’s action.’ Haidee made no reply to those philosophic observations.