“You do well to boast of it,” said Andrea, who, without becoming angry, as Caderousse feared, at this new extortion, quietly resigned the ring. Caderousse looked so closely at it that Andrea well knew that he was examining to see if all the edges were perfect.
“It is a false diamond,” said Caderousse.
“You are joking now,” replied Andrea.
“Do not be angry, we can try it.” Caderousse went to the window, touched the glass with it, and found it would cut.
“Confiteor!” said Caderousse, putting the diamond on his little finger; “I was mistaken; but those thieves of jewellers imitate so well that it is no longer worthwhile to rob a jeweller’s shop—it is another branch of industry paralyzed.”
“Have you finished?” said Andrea,—“do you want anything more?—will you have my waistcoat or my hat? Make free, now you have begun.”
“No; you are, after all, a good companion; I will not detain you, and will try to cure myself of my ambition.”
“But take care the same thing does not happen to you in selling the diamond you feared with the gold.”
“I shall not sell it—do not fear.”
“Not at least till the day after tomorrow,” thought the young man.
“Happy rogue,” said Caderousse; “you are going to find your servants, your horses, your carriage, and your betrothed!”
“Yes,” said Andrea.
“Well, I hope you will make a handsome wedding-present the day you marry Mademoiselle Danglars.”
“I have already told you it is a fancy you have taken in your head.”