"Begin now with 'There were more than a hundred pieces, and every one of them gold.' Go on, begin, begin, begin!" The red-headed Pole was in a fever of excitement.

Maria's recital had become a veritable mania with him.

As he listened, with closed eyes and trembling lips, he fancied he could see that wonderful plate before him, there on the table, under his eyes, under his hand, ponderous, massive, gleaming.

He tormented Maria into a second repetition of the story--into a third.

The more his mind dwelt upon it, the sharper grew his desire.
Then, with Maria's refusal to continue the tale, came the reaction.
Zerkow awoke as from some ravishing dream.