“I’ve a weakness for ties,” he admitted, and the girl instantly smiled her understanding. “Now show me something less informal.”

“I’ll have that pair,” said the glove buyer. “What price did you mention, madam?”

Jimmy blinked-once. The gloves chosen were black, and as the assistant folded them to slip into their cellophane envelope the diamonds sparkled yet more gloriously. The woman-Jimmy was confident that she was Mrs Robinov, the late Sam Goldspink’s housekeeper-appeared to be of a placid disposition, accepting the whims of her customers with fortitude.

His own assistant was displaying a tie which could be worn at a business conference. The glove purchaser departed, and Jimmy permitted a full minute to pass before remarking to Mrs Robinov, who was replacing gloves into the respective boxes:

“You wouldn’t sell many gloves in a town like this, would you?”

Mrs Robinov smiled, and behold, there was a diamond in a front tooth.

“More often than you might think,” she replied. “Mostly for weddings, of course, and for funerals. Generally a man wanting gloves is going down to Adelaide or over to Sydney. Much too hot up here for gloves-in the summer.

He was informed of his liability and passed a five-pound note. The girl accepted the money as though a gift to herself, and raced it along the overhead wire to the cashier.

“Are you staying for the races?” politely inquired Pearls and Diamonds.

“Yes, I think so,” replied Jimmy. “I like Broken Hill, even in summer.”

“I like it all the year round.” The pearls gleamed as though seen through a fathom of tropical water. “I like the people. We’re very sociable here in the Hill. I hope you have found us so.”

“I have that,” agreed Jimmy truthfully. Mrs Robinov thanked him for his custom and turned to serve a youth who would doubtless have preferred the girl. Jimmy smiled at her on accepting his change, raised his hat, and sauntered out to the hot street.