Anthea's hand was on the counter, something seemed to slide under
it. She lifted it. There lay five bright half sovereigns.

'Why, I HAVE got it after all,' she said; 'here's the money, now
let's have the Sammy,... the monkey I mean.'

The dealer looked hard at the money, but he made haste to put it
in his pocket.

'I only hope you come by it honest,' he said, shrugging his
shoulders. He scratched his ear again.

'Well!' he said, 'I suppose I must let you have it, but it's
worth thribble the money, so it is--'

He slowly led the way out to the hutch--opened the door gingerly,
and made a sudden fierce grab at the Psammead, which the Psammead
acknowledged in one last long lingering bite.

'Here, take the brute,' said the shopman, squeezing the Psammead
so tight that he nearly choked it. 'It's bit me to the marrow,
it have.'

The man's eyes opened as Anthea held out her arms.

'Don't blame me if it tears your face off its bones,' he said,
and the Psammead made a leap from his dirty horny hands, and
Anthea caught it in hers, which were not very clean, certainly,
but at any rate were soft and pink, and held it kindly and
closely.