The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was
not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated
later on.
Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw
it upon the table.
"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I
don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a
shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less.
But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me
going a while at first."
White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper.
And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick
feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating
the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the
lord of the flat.
For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and
back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window.
Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled
rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair.
They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had
simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope
of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that
should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.
But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was
able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair
grows so fast, Jim!"
And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and
cried, "Oh, oh!"
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present.
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