What is the first thing that strikes you? His age.
With everyone that sees him it's the same. At first you take him
for an old man; if you study him long enough, you are positive
that he is in his twenties. May he not be this chemist?"
"What becomes of the doctor and his Blind Spot?"
"The Blind Spot," answered Jerome, "is merely a part of the
chemistry."
Next day I hunted up a jeweller. I was careful to choose one with
whom I was acquainted. I asked for a private consultation. When we
were alone I took the ring from my finger.
"Just an opinion," I asked. "You know gems. Can you tell me
anything about this one?"
He picked it up casually, and turned it over; his mouth puckered.
For a minute he studied.
"That? Well, now." He held it up. "Humph. Wait a minute."
"Is it a gem?"
"I think it is. At first I thought I knew it right off; but now--
wait a minute."
He reached in the drawer for his glass. He held the stone up for
some minutes. His face was a study; queer little wrinkles twisting
from the corners of his eyes told his wonder. He did not speak;
merely turned the stone round and round. At last he removed his
glass and held up the ring. He was quizzical.
"Where did you get this?" he asked.
"That is something I do not care to answer. I wish to know what it
is. Is it a gem? If so, what kind?"
He thought a moment and shook his head.
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