“Is that so? How about me? It isn't because a stone is worth so much that makes me want it. I want it for the sheer beauty; I want it for the tremendous panorama the sight of it unfolds in my mind. I imagine what happened from the hour the stone was mined to the hour it came into my possession. To me--to all genuine collectors--the intrinsic value is nil. Can't you see? It is for me what Balzac's La Peau de Chagrin would be to you if you had fallen on it for the first time--money, love, tragedy, death.” An interruption came in the form of one of the office boys. The chief was on the wire and wanted Cutty at once. “At half after twelve, Kitty. And by the way,” added Cutty as he rose, “they say about the drums that a beautiful woman is immune to their danger.” “There's your chance, Kitty,” said Burlingame. “Am I beautiful?” asked Kitty, demurely. “Lord love the minx!” shouted Cutty. “A corner in Mouquin's.” “Rain or shine.” After Cutty had departed Kitty said: “He's the most fascinating man I know. What fun it would be to jog round the world with a man like that, who knew everybody and everything. As a little girl I was violently in love with him; but don't you ever dare give me away.” “You'll probably have nightmare to-night. And honestly you ought not to live in that den alone. But Cutty has seen things,” Burlingame admitted; “things no white man ought to see. He's been shot up, mauled by animals, marooned, torpedoed at sea, made prisoner by old Fuzzy-Wuzzy. An ordinary man would have died of fatigue. Cutty is as tough and strong as a gorilla and as active as a cat. But this jewel superstition is all rot. Odd, though; he'll travel halfway round the world to see a ruby or an emerald. He says no true collector cares a cent for a diamond. Says they are vulgar.” “Except on the third finger of a lady's left hand; and then they are just perfectly splendid!” “Oho! Well, when you get yours I hope it's as big as the Koh-i-noor.” “Thank you! You might just as well wish a brick on me!” Kitty left the office at a quarter of six. The phrase kept running through her head--the drums of jeopardy. A little shiver ran up her spine. Money, love, tragedy, death! This terrible and wonderful old world, of which she had seen little else than city streets, suddenly exhibited wide vistas. She knew now why she had begun to save--travel. Just as soon as she had a thousand she would go somewhere. A great longing to hear native drums in the night.