Here, he pushed aside a tray of showy diamonds--a successful digger was covering the fat, red hands of his bride with them--and chose a slender, discreetly chased setting, containing three small stones.

No matter what household duties fell to Polly's share, this little ring would not be out of place on her finger.
From there he went to the last address Purdy had given him; only to find that the boy had again disappeared.

Before parting from Purdy, the time before, he had lent him half the purchase-money for a horse and dray, thus enabling him to carry out an old scheme of plying for hire at the city wharf.

According to the landlord of the "Hotel Vendome," to whom Mahony was referred for fuller information, Purdy had soon tired of this job, and selling dray and beast for what he could get had gone off on a new rush to "Simson's Diggings" or the "White Hills." Small wonder Miss Tilly was left languishing for news of him.
Pricked by the nervous disquietude of those who have to do with the law, Mahony next repaired to his solicitor's office.

But Henry Ocock was closeted with a more important client.