The edge of the disc was beautifully notched and the whole surface polished so that it shone like glass, while the beads, made of very small segments of porcupine quills, were variously dyed, making a curiously gaudy show of bright colors.
"There now, ma cherie, is something worth fifty times its weight in gold," said M.Roussillon when he presented the necklace to his foster daughter with pardonable self-satisfaction.

"It is a sacred charm-string given me by an old heathen who would sell his soul for a pint of cheap rum.

He solemnly informed me that whoever wore it could not by any possibility be killed by an enemy." Alice kissed M.Roussillon.
"It's so curious and beautiful," she said, holding it up and drawing the variegated string through her fingers.

Then, with her mischievous laugh, she added; "and I'm glad it is so powerful against one's enemy; I'll wear it whenever I go where Adrienne Bourcier is, see if I don't!" "Is she your enemy?
What's up between you and la petite Adrienne, eh ?" M.Roussillon lightly demanded.

"You were always the best of good friends, I thought.