As, again, this very morning when, with his silver coin out in his hand, he had merely wished to regard it as a great deal of silver coin, a store of plenty against famine, which indeed it looked to be under a not-too-minute scrutiny.

It looked like as much as two dollars and fifty cents, and he would have preferred to pocket it again with this impression.

Yet that rebellious other part of his mind had basely counted the coin even while he eyed it approvingly, and it had persisted in shouting aloud that it was not two dollars and fifty cents but one dollar and eighty--five cents.
The counting part of the mind made no comment on this discrepancy; it did not say that this discovery put things in a very different light.

It merely counted, registered the result, and ceased to function, with an air of saying that it would ascertain the facts without prejudice and you could do what you liked about them.

It didn't care.
That night a solitary guest enjoyed the quiet hospitality of the Crystal Palace Hotel.