"No," he said, "they have not bribed high enough yet to get from me my treasure--my treasure." "Dearest, am I your treasure ?" "Are you not?
What else have I that I make equal to you ?" Nina was supremely happy--triumphant in her happiness.

She cared nothing for her aunt, nothing for Lotta Luxa and her threats; and very little at the present moment even for St Nicholas or St John of the Bridge.

To be told by her lover that she was his own treasure, was sufficient to banish for the time all her miseries and all her fears.
"You are my treasure.

I want you to remember that, and to believe it," said the Jew.
"I will believe it," said Nina, trembling with anxious eagerness.

Could it be possible that she would ever forget it?
"And now I will ask my questions.