Read Online Victory Over Japan by Ellen Gilchrist - Free Book Online

frame house. There were gardens in front and a shiny red enamel door. This looks more like it, Rhoda thought. She opened the door and went inside, pretending to be interested in the watches in a case. “Can I help you?” the boy behind the counter said. He was a very young boy dressed like an old man. “I don’t know,” she said. “I have some jewelry I’m thinking of selling. Some people I know said this was a good place. I’m thinking of selling some things I don’t wear anymore and getting a Rolex instead. I see you sell them.”
    â€œWhat was it you wanted to sell? Did you bring it with you?”
    â€œI might sell this,” she said, taking off the ring and handing it to him. “If I could get a good enough price. I’m tired of it. I’m bored with wearing rings anyway. See what you think it’s worth.”
    He took the ring between his chubby fingers and held it up above him. He looked at it a moment, then put a glass into his eye. “It’s flawed,” he said. “No one is buying diamonds now. The prime was twenty percent this morning.”
    â€œIt is not flawed,” she said. “It came from Adler’s. It’s a perfect stone. It’s insured for six thousand dollars.”
    â€œI’ll give you nine hundred,” he said. “Take it or leave it.”
    â€œHow old are you?” she said. “You don’t look like you’re old enough to be buying diamonds.”
    â€œI’m twenty-five,” he said. “I run this place for my father. I’ve been running it since it opened. Do you want to sell this ring or not? That’s my only offer.”
    â€œI don’t know,” she said. “It’s insured for six thousand dollars. I only meant to sell it for a lark.”
    â€œWell, I guess it depends on how badly you need the money,” he said. “Of course if you don’t like the ring there’s not much sense in keeping it.”
    â€œOh, I don’t need the money.” She had drawn herself up so she could look at him on a slant. “My husband’s a physician. I don’t need money for a thing. I just wanted to get rid of some junk.” She squared her shoulders. “On the other hand I might sell it just so I wouldn’t have to bother with keeping it insured. There’s a painting I want to buy, at the Bienville. I could sell the ring and buy that painting. It’s all irrelevant anyway. I mean, it’s all just junk. It’s all just possessions.”
    â€œWell, make up your mind,” he said. He held the ring out to her on a polishing cloth. “It’s up to you.”
    â€œI’ll just keep it,” she said. “I wouldn’t dream of selling a ring that valuable for nine hundred dollars.”
    It was almost a week before she went back to sell the ring. “Seven hundred and fifty,” he said. “That’s the best I can do.”
    â€œBut you said nine hundred. You definitely said nine hundred.”
    â€œThat was last week. You should have sold it then.” Rhoda looked into his little myopic piggy eyes, hating him with all her clean white Anglo-Teutonic heart. “I’ll take it,” she said, and handed him the ring.
    He left the room. She sat down in a chair beside his desk, feeling powerless and used. He came back into the room. She was trying not to look at his hands, which were holding a stack of bills.
    â€œHere you are,” he said. “We don’t keep records of these things, you know. We don’t give receipts.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” she said.
    â€œThere isn’t any record. In case you want to file a claim.”
    She took the money from him and stuffed it into her handbag without counting it. “My God,” she said. Her power was returning. She felt it coursing up her veins. Her veins were charged with power. A thousand white horses of pure moral power pouring up