“So great a love that he has,” he drew a deep breath, “it may surprise
you but it is nevertheless trew, he has mastered the characters of the
Greek tongue it_self_.”
“Greek is very difficult,” said Miriam.
“He can, in the rendering of an account for ’Ermes repaired, equally as
well use the original _Greek_.” He threw open the door leading to his
little shop, but with no air of inviting her to enter. He wanted to
provide a clearer light for her contemplation of the marvel he
represented?
The light revealed weakness. Large watery eyes fierce with self-conceit,
grown old in unchallenged self-conceit. An angry mouth, tremulous
beneath branching buccaneer moustachios. He was waiting for responsive
wonder, ready the moment it should be spoken to break forth again. His
violence calmed her pity. He was proof against the whole world.
Determined to escape she smiled approval and remarked in the voice of
departure on the amount of industry represented by the house as a whole.
“Stay,” he cried, “yet one moment,” and disappeared into the shop, to
return in an instant with some small object clasped, hidden by his cape,
to his breast.
“I have here,” he patted his breast with a free hand, “a small work, a
work of my own hands, dedicated as is seeming and suitable, to
_womankind_. Deign, gracious lady, to accept the same as a token of
gratitude and esteem for your presence under this roof.” With a deft
movement he flung back the cape and presented the hidden object. It was
the alabaster finger.
“Oh, no!” Miriam cried. “You must not give me _that_.” But he was
embarrassed, holding it forth, his head bent, his voice once more low
and broken.
“Take, take,” he said, “I will not sell it and I shall find no recipient
more worthy. Take, I beg you.”
The heavy little block came into her hands. She gazed at it murmuring
appreciations, trying to thank him in the way he wanted to be thanked.
His eloquence was at an end. He bowed silently at each phrase, saying
only, when at last she turned to go, “Lady, I thank you.”
He had said his say.
But what of the future chance meetings? What could she give in return
for the burden of this gift, so much heavier than its weight in her
hands?
2