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第46章最昂贵的圣诞礼物（1）
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AStringofBlueBeads
富尔顿·奥斯勒FultonOursler
&eRichardwasthelomanintown.OnthedayJeahedoorofhisshop.It’sasmallshopwhiedowntrahelittlefrontnwithadisarrayofold-fashiohisasworniheCivilWar，gsandsilverboxes，imagesofjadeandivory，porfigurihiswiernoonachildwasstandingthere，herfainsttheglass，earandeudyireasureasifshewerelookingforsomethingquitespeallyshestraightehasatisfiedairaore.
TheshadowyinteriorofPeteRichard’sestablishmentwaseveeredthanhissho.Shelveswerestackedwithjewelcaskets，duelingpistols，dlamps，andtheflooredwithirons，mandolinsandthingshardtofindanamefor.BehierstoodPetehimself，amahirtybutwithhairalreadyturninggray.Therewasableakairabouthimashelookedatthesmallerwhoflattenedherunglovedhaer.
“Mister，”
shebegan，“wouldyoupleaseletmelookatthestringofbluebeadsinthewiedthedraperiesaaurquoisestolyagainstthepallorofhispalmashespreadtheorbeforeher.“They’rejustperfect，”
saidthetirelytoherself.“Willyouprettyforme，please？”
&udiedherwithastonyair.“Areyoubuyingtheseforsomeohey’refsister.Shetakese.Yousee，thiswillbethefirstChristmassiherdied.I’vebeenlookiwonderfulChristmaspresentformysister.”
“Howmueydoyouhave？”
askedPetewarily.Shehadbeenbusilyusinahandkerdnowshepouredoutahandfulofpeheter.“Iemptiedmybank.”
sheexplainedsimply.
&elookedatherthoughtfully.Thenhecarefullydrewbaecklace.Thepricetagwasvisibletohimbutnottoher.Howcouldhetellher？Thetrustinglookofherblueeyessmotehimlikethepainofanoldwound.“Justaminute，”
hesaid，aowardthebackofthestore.Overhisshoulderhecalled，“What’syourname？”
Hewasverybusyaboutsomething.“JeanGrace.”
&ereturraceackagelayinhishand，edipaperahabowofgreen.“Thereyouare，”
hesaidshortly，“Dohewayhome.”
Shesmiledhappilyoverhershoulderassherahroughtheatchedhergo，whiledesolatiohoughts.SomethingaboutJeanGradherstringofbeadshadstirredhimtothedepthsofagriefthatwouldnotstayburied.Thechild’shairwaswheatyellow，hereyesseablue，aime，notloehadbeehagirlwithhairofthatsameyellowaasblue.Aurquoiseohavebeenhers.
Buttherehadearainynight-atrugonaslipperyroad—andthelifewascrushedoutofhisdreaSiehadlivedtoomuchwithhisgriefinsolitude.Heolitelyatteomers，butafterhourshisworldseemedirrevocablyempty.Hewastryingtetiyideepeneddaybyday.TheblueeyesofJeaedhimintoacuteremembrahehadlost.Thepainofitmadehimretheexuberanceofholidayshtheradewasbrisk；gwomenswarmediriryingtaihelasterhadgoeonChristmasEve，hesighedwithrelief.ItwasoverforaforPetethenightwasnotquiteover.
Thedooropenedandayoungwomahaninexplicablestart，herealizedthatshelookedfamiliar，yetheberwhenorwherehehadseenherbefore.Herhairwasgoldenyelleeyeswereblue.Withoutspeaking，shedrewfromherpurseapackagelooselyusredpaper，abowofgreenribbonwithit.Preseringofbluebeadslaygleamingagainbeforehi
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