Carmelo took the casket, placed it on the girl's knees, and, kneeling beside her on the edge of the tiger's skin, he displayed before her eyes a mass of necklaces, rings, chains and buckles which were thrown pell-mell into the casket with a sort of superb contempt for such a multitude of priceless objects, some of which were masterpieces of old-fashioned carved work, others perfect treasures by reason of the beauty and great size of the diamonds. "My lord," said the girl, running her inquisitive fingers over all this wealth, while the Piccinino fastened his dry, inflamed eyes upon her at close range, "you have too little respect for your mother's jewels. My mother left me only a few bits of ribbon and a pair of scissors with gold handles, which I preserve as relics, and which are very carefully stowed away in my closet. If we had time before that accursed abbé comes, I would put this casket in order." "Do not take that trouble," said the Piccinino; "indeed we have not time. But you have time enough to take whatever you would like to keep." "I?" said Mila, with a laugh, replacing the casket on the mosaic table. "What should I do with them? Not only should I, a poor silk-spinner, be ashamed to wear a princess's jewels, which, by the way, being your mother's, you should give only to your betrothed, but I should be very much embarrassed with all these inconvenient trinkets. I like to look at jewels, and, also, to touch them, as hens turn over with their claws anything shiny that they see on the ground. But I prefer to see them on somebody's else's neck and arms rather than my own. I should be so embarrassed by them that even if I owned them I should never use them." "And you take no account whatever of the pleasure of owning them?" queried the bandit, amazed at the result of his experiment. "To own things for which one has no use seems to me a very embarrassing thing," said she; "and I cannot understand one's burdening one's life with such gew-gaws, unless they are given to one as a sacred trust." "And yet you wear a very beautiful ring!" said the Piccinino, kissing her hand. "Oh! monsignor," said the girl, withdrawing her hand with an offended air, "are you worthy to kiss that ring? Forgive me for speaking to you so, but it is not mine, as you see, and I must return it to Princess Agatha to-night; she sent me to the jeweller's to get it." "I will wager," said the Piccinino, scrutinizing Mila with distrust and suspicion, "that Princess Agatha overwhelms you with presents, and that that is the reason why you despise mine!"