I looked into the gray face of my acquaintance.
"I cannot believe," I said slowly, "that human ingenuity could so
closely duplicate the handiwork of nature. Surely the gem is
unique?--possibly one of those magical talismans of which we read
in Eastern stories?"
My companion smiled.
"It is not a gem," he replied, "and while in a sense it is a
product of human ingenuity, it is also the handiwork of nature."
I was badly puzzled, and doubtless revealed the fact, for the
stranger laughed in his short fashion, and:
"I am not trying to mystify you," he assured me. "But the truth
is so hard to believe sometimes that in the present case I
hesitate to divulge it. Did you ever meet Tcheriapin?"
This abrupt change of topic somewhat startled me, but
nevertheless:
"I once heard him play," I replied. "Why do you ask the
question?"
"For this reason: Tcheriapin possessed the only other example of
this art which so far as I am aware ever left the laboratory of
the inventor. He occasionally wore it in his buttonhole."
"It is then a manufactured product of some sort?"
"As I have said, in a sense it is; but"--he drew the tiny
exquisite ornament from his pocket again and held it up before
me--"it is a natural bloom.
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