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With that he took out from his breast-pocket a small pocket book, opened
it, found a certain photograph, and put it on the table, shoving it over
toward Kirski. The dim-eyed Russian did not dare to touch it; but he
stooped over it, and he put one trembling hand on each side of it, as if
he would concentrate the light, and gazed at this portrait of Natalie
Lind until he could see nothing at all for the tears that came into his
eyes. Then he rose abruptly, and said something rapidly to Edwards.
"He says, 'Take it away, or you will make me a thief. It is worth more
than all the diamonds in the world.'"
Calabressa did not laugh this time. He regarded the man with a look in
which there was as much pity as curiosity.
"The poor devil!" he said. "Tell him I will ask the beautiful saint whom
he worships so to send him a portrait of herself with her own hands. I
will. She will do as much as that for her friend Calabressa."
This had scarcely been translated to Kirski when, in his sudden
gratitude, he caught Calabressa's hand and kissed it.


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