"Fifteen cents for the lot! I might as well make you a Christmas present! Besides, I got some gold fillings off him; look at um." Zerkow drew a quick breath as the three pellets suddenly flashed in Maria's palm.

There it was, the virgin metal, the pure, unalloyed ore, his dream, his consuming desire.

His fingers twitched and hooked themselves into his palms, his thin lips drew tight across his teeth.
"Ah, you got some gold," he muttered, reaching for it.
Maria shut her fist over the pellets.

"The gold goes with the others," she declared.

"You'll gi' me a fair price for the lot, or I'll take um back." In the end a bargain was struck that satisfied Maria.