He had a thin, leathery
face with an exaggerated nose, stretched out as though from sniffing for
curios in dusty dim corners. When he smiled his eyes shut and his mouth
twisted until he looked like a jolly little gnome.
"Ah-ha! You admit you cannot beat me!" He spoke with a soft accent. "And
this is the little lady who owns the green beads." And he peered closely
at Beryl.
The green beads! She had not thought of them once.
"Sit down. Sit down. I will ask you to tell me a story. Then I will tell
_you_ a story. First, my dear young lady, tell me where you found the
beads?" As he spoke, he drew open a drawer, and took from it the
envelope Robin had given to her guardian.
Beryl answered briefly, for the simple reason that she found difficulty
managing her tongue.
"An--an old priest--back in Ireland--gave them--to us. He'd found them
in an antique shop in London."
"Ah, so! Just so! So! So!" crowed the gnome-like man, jumping up and
down in his great chair. "Now I will tell _you_ a story."
"Once upon a time, as you say, a beautiful Queen of the fifteenth
century, while travelling through a forest, came upon a roving band of
gypsies.
Pages:
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303