Pascoe probably had much better rings in his shop in London; he was probably humouring her; still, she liked the one with the alexandrite eye (“emerald by day, amethyst by night,” the jeweller had said) and she had not wanted to wait. A week earlier, when she had gone to help him on his latest trip to Moscow, she had felt he might soon peter out. Then, when he made this last-minute detour to Kiev and proposed, she wanted to get the rings without delay.
