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"The Blind Spot"


"I thought I knew every gem on earth. But I don't. This is a new
one. It is beautiful--just a moment." He stepped to the door. In a
moment another man stepped in. The jeweller motioned towards the
ring. The man picked it up and again came the examination. At last
he laid the glass and ring both upon the table.
"What do you make of it, Henry?" asked the jeweller.
"Not me," answered the second one. "I never saw one like it."
It was as Watson had said. No man had ever identified the jewel.
The two men were puzzled; they were interested. The jeweller
turned to me.
"Would you care to leave it with us for a bit; you have no
objection to us taking it out of the ring?"
I had not thought of that. I had business down the street. I
consulted my watch.
"In half an hour I shall be back. Will that be enough time?"
"I think so."
It was an hour before I returned. The assistant was standing at
the door of the office. He spoke something to the one inside and
then made an indication to myself. He seemed excited; when I came
closer I noted that his face was full of wonder.
"We've been waiting," said he. "We didn't examine the stone; it
wasn't necessary. It is truly wonderful." He was a short, squat
man with a massive forehead. "Just step inside."
Inside the office the jeweller was sitting beside a table; he was
leaning back in his chair; he had his hands clasped over his
stomach.


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