Stuhk hastened to cheer him.
"Of course you can have anything you want. Wait a minute, and I will
get it for you.
"I'll bet that coon's going to buy himself a ring or something," he
reflected as he went in search of the local manager and Gideon's
money.
But Stuhk was wrong. Gideon had no intention of buying himself a ring.
For the matter of that, he had several that were amply satisfactory.
They had size and sparkle and luster, all the diamond brilliance that
rings need to have; and for none of them had he paid much over five
dollars. He was amply supplied with jewelry in which he felt perfect
satisfaction. His present want was positive, if nebulous; he desired a
fortune in his pocket, bulky, tangible evidence of his miraculous
success. Ever since Stuhk had found him, life had had an unreal
quality for him. His Monte Cristo wealth was too much like a fabulous,
dream-found treasure, money that could not be spent without danger of
awakening. And he had dropped into the habit of storing it about him,
so that in any pocket into which he plunged his hand he might find a
roll of crisp evidence of reality.
Pages:
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497