"This is a very valuable ring," he said.
"So I thought," said Paul. "How much is it worth?"
"Do you mean how much should we ask for it?"
"No; how much would you give for it?"
"Probably two hundred and fifty dollars." Paul was quite
startled on finding the ring so much more valuable than he had
supposed. He had thought it might possibly be worth a hundred
dollars; but he had not imagined any rings were worth as much as
the sum named.
"Will you buy it of me?" he asked.
The clerk regarded Paul attentively, and, as he thought, a little
suspiciously.
"Does the ring belong to you?" he asked.
"No, to my mother."
"Where did she buy it?"
"She didn't buy it at all. She found it one day at Central Park.
It belongs to her now. She advertised for an owner, and examined
the papers to see if it was advertised as lost, but could hear
nothing of the one to whom it belonged."
"How long ago was this?"
"Two years ago."
"I will show this ring to Mr. Tiffany," said the clerk.
"Very well."
Paul took a seat and waited.
Soon Mr. Tiffany came up.
"Are you the boy who brought in the ring?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"You say your mother found it two years ago in Central Park?"
"Yes, sir.
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