"'Flawless!' he said. 'Here is a speck! . . . here is a flaw! . . . A fine stone that!' "His haggard face was so lighted up by the sparkling jewels, that it put me in mind of a dingy old mirror, such as you see in country inns. The glass receives every luminous image without reflecting the light, and a traveler bold enough to look for his face in it beholds a man in an apoplectic fit. "'Well?' asked the Count, clapping Gobseck on the shoulder. "The old boy trembled. He put down his playthings on his bureau, took his seat, and was a money-lender once more--hard, cold, and polished as a marble column. "'How much do you want?' "'One hundred thousand francs for three years,' said the Count. "'That is possible,' said Gobseck, and then from a mahogany box (Gobseck's jewel-case) he drew out a faultlessly adjusted pair of scales! "He weighed the diamonds, calculating the value of stones and setting at sight (Heaven knows how!), delight and severity struggling in the expression of his face the meanwhile. The Countess had plunged in a kind of stupor; to me, watching her, it seemed that she was fathoming the depths of the abyss into which she had fallen. There was remorse still left in that woman's soul. Perhaps a hand held out in human charity might save her. I would try. "'Are the diamonds your personal property, madame?' I asked in a clear voice. "'Yes, monsieur,' she said, looking at me with proud eyes. "'Make out the deed of purchase with power of redemption, chatterbox,' said Gobseck to me, resigning his chair at the bureau in my favor. "'Madame is without doubt a married woman?' I tried again. "She nodded abruptly. "'Then I will not draw up the deed,' said I. "'And why not?' asked Gobseck. "'Why not?' echoed I, as I drew the old man into the bay window so as to speak aside with him. 'Why not? This woman is under her husband's