The Name of the Rose
"Her waist was very thin, too, though I didn't get a chance to touch it."
Glancing sideways at the precocious brat, the man picked up the coin purse and examined it.
The style was very elegant, different from what was sold on the market. The dark green velvet was worn halfway to old, and the golden tassels had faded somewhat. The lining was embroidered with a tiny rose in the same color silk thread; if one didn't pay attention, it was almost invisible. After examining it for a moment, his gaze shifted. The man took out a folded piece of paper from the bottom of the bag.