AT THE PAWN SHOP

….. Scarlett removes the diamond ring from her purse.
“I’m looking to sell this.”
The owner inspects the ring with a magnifier, turning it under the light.
“Nice piece,” he says.
“Four thousand.”
“The appraisal says fifteen.”
He smiles thinly.
“Miss, if you find someone who’ll pay that, let me know.”
Frustration rises, but she doesn’t argue.
She glances around the shop, noticing several ads pinned to the wall—old-fashioned photos of railroad trains. One particularly catches her eye: a man in a Pullman train company uniform. He looks like the pawn shop owner.
She hesitates, then pulls the railroad chronometer with its unique 24-hour dial from her bag. She places it on the counter beside the diamond ring.
The man’s expression changes. He picks it up carefully, almost reverently, studying the mechanism.
“Now this… this is something.”
He sets it down gently.
“Six thousand for both.”
“I was hoping for seven.”
“Not today, Miss.”
A pause.
Then: “Fill this out—name and address. Required. The law”
She completes the form and slides it back.
He glances at it, then looks up again.
“Your name’s really Scarlett?”
She nods.
He grins. “I’m a sucker for the movie.”
A beat.
“Deal. Seven thousand. But don’t make a habit of it.”
Relief moves through her, discreet but immediate.
She takes the cash and tucks it into her bag. [Chapter 67 — Friday, March 30, 1984]