She cut it off herself when she knew she was dying and she told me to sell it if ever I needed a little money." The girl's voice trembled violently, and she turned her head away.

Schmidt was silent and very grave.

Then Vjera began to move on again, clutching the precious thing to her bosom and drawing her shawl over it.
"The best man for this lives in the Maffei Strasse," said Schmidt after a few minutes.
"Show me the way." Vjera turned as he directed.

At that moment she would have lost herself in the familiar streets, had he not been there to guide her.
The hairdresser's shop was brilliantly lighted, and as good fortune would have it, there were no customers within.

With an entreating glance which he obeyed, Vjera made Schmidt wait outside.
"Please do not look!" she whispered.