Testimony of the Pearl Brooch
I was born in a jeweler's workshop on West Forty-Seventh Street, in the winter of 1898, the year the Spanish-American War ended and the world began to rearrange itself into shapes no one had anticipated. My pearls came from the South Seas, harvested by divers who held their breath for minutes at a time in waters so deep the sunlight never reached them. My silver came from a mine in Colorado,...
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