He groped about and encountered smooth, complex objects that felt like steel machines of some kind. Baffled, he touched a wall and tried to find an electric switch. He had to strike a match. He knelt and struck it, cupping the flame near the floor. The place seemed a factory with many rows of benches and there were several bulbs with green shades suspended from the ceiling. He turned on a light and saw a pack of cigarettes lying on a bench, which he appropriated. There were stools at the benches and he concluded that men worked here at some trade. He walked about and picked up many packets of matches and also stuffed them into his pockets. If only he could find more cigarettes! He could not make out what kind of shop this was. On the benches were many small motors; the place resembled a shoe shop in some respects, only there were no shoes in evidence and the machines were much smaller than those he had seen in shoe shops.

He was about to turn out the light in preparation for leaving when he paused to examine the glinting objects in a large, uncovered glass jar. The shining bits were mixed, it seemed, with tiny white pellets of tissue paper. Some of the glinting bits looked like pieces of glass. He poked a timid finger into the glass jar and scooped up some of the gleaming particles. Quickly, he dropped the stuff back into the jar and wiped his hands on his trousers. Maybe some kind of acid, he said with a shudder. A big metal box caught his eye and he picked it up and shook it and a dry, tinny rattle came to his ears; he brought out his screwdriver and pried the box open and lifted the lid. Rings . . . ! His breath stopped in astonishment, then he ran about the room, noticing many things he had not noticed before. On many of the benches hung golden watches which he grabbed and rammed into his pockets. He returned to the box of rings and stared. Were these rings worth anything? He held one directly under a light and white and blue sparks of fire shot fitfully from the limpid stone as he turned it slowly in his fingers. He frowned and looked toward the front and tried to read a faint smear of lettering on a glass pane but a red neon sign flickered on and off and he could not make out all of the letters. He spelled: Jew. . . . Must be a jewelry shop, he said. He bent over the jar again and stared at the white pellets of paper and the glittering bits of glass. His lips formed an O and he breathed: Diamonds. . . . Yes, some of the diamonds were wrapped and some were bare. His heart raced with excitement.