Inside was a glazed paper box, such as jewelers use, but still there was no mark, no printing, either on top or bottom.
The cover of the box came off in Mr.Latham's hand, disclosing a bed of white cotton.

He removed the downy upper layer, and there--there, nestling against the snowy background, blazed a single splendid diamond, of six, perhaps seven, carats.

Myriad colors played in its blue-white depths, sparkling, flashing, dazzling in the subdued light.

Mr.Latham drew one long quick breath, and walked over to the window to examine the stone in the full glare of day.
A minute or more passed, a minute of wonder, admiration, allurement, but at last he ventured to lift the diamond from the box.

It was perfect, so far as he could see; perfect in cutting and color and depth, prismatic, radiant, bewilderingly gorgeous.