Montgomery.
"So am I," said her husband. "We may have to sell it in some other
city."
"We can't leave the city without money."
"That's true," returned her husband, rather taken aback by what was
undeniably true.
"We must sell the ring, or raise money on it, in New York."
"I don't know but you are right. The trouble is, there are not many
places where they will buy so expensive an article. Besides, they will
be apt to ask impertinent questions."
"You might go to a pawnbroker's."
"And get fleeced. If I got a quarter of the value from a pawnbroker, I
should be lucky."
"We must do something with it," said Mrs. Montgomery, decidedly.
"Right, my dear. We must get the sinews of war somewhere. Richard will
never be himself again till his pocketbook is lined with greenbacks. At
present, who steals my purse steals trash."
"Suppose you try Tiffany's?"
"The ring has already been offered there. They might remember it."
"If they do, say that he is your son."
"A good thought," answered the husband. "I will act upon it. But, on the
whole, I'll doff this disguise, and assume my ordinary garments. This
time, my dear, I shall not need your assistance."
"Well, the sooner it's done the better. That's all I have to say."
"As soon as possible."
Mr. Montgomery returned to his lodgings in Amity street, and, taking
off his clerical garb, appeared in the garb in which we first made his
acquaintance.
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