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Yazar: Arthur Conan Doyle

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"'I should much prefer to have it so,' said he, raising up a
square, black morocco case which he had laid beside his chair.
'You have doubtless heard of the Beryl Coronet?'
"'One of the most precious public possessions of the empire,'
said I.
"'Precisely.' He opened the case, and there, imbedded in soft,
flesh-coloured velvet, lay the magnificent piece of jewellery
which he had named. 'There are thirty-nine enormous beryls,' said
he, 'and the price of the gold chasing is incalculable. The
lowest estimate would put the worth of the coronet at double the
sum which I have asked. I am prepared to leave it with you as my
security.'
"I took the precious case into my hands and looked in some
perplexity from it to my illustrious client.
"'You doubt its value?' he asked.
"'Not at all. I only doubt-'

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