“Yes, I do say.”
“Then why—with deference, sir—don’t you sell direct to him?”
“Why don’t I? Am I a man of business, Robert? Look about you. Have I learned, do you think, to take a hexpert’s word as to the precise vally of a article that I see his heye’s on, or to argy by induction that a good private offer means a better public one? When it comes to overreaching—hem!—a connoyser’s a man like myself; so we’ll just, by your leave, put the picture up to auction.”
He carried the decanter back to its place in one of the shiny cupboards.
“Besides, my friend,” said he, talking over his shoulder, “don’t you see as how my conscience demands this seizure?”
“Not quite, sir, with humility, if so be as——”
“You’re dense, Robert. Look here, I’m a conscientious resister, ain’t I? Law ain’t necessarily equity because the devil and Mr. Chamberlain frames it. There’s some lawgivers that are Vicars of Jehovah, and some of——but perhaps you’ve never heard of Abaddon?”
“Haven’t I?” said Mr. Gardener ruefully. “I was near run in once for tendering one as had been passed on me.”
“He was king of the bottomless pit,” said Mr. Plumley patiently. “He framed this here law what’s made a passive objector of me. Well, if, in resigning myself to his unjust processes, I force the picture-dealer’s hand, thereby making a profit elsewise denied me, don’t you see how I round on the law—triumph over it—kill two birds with one stone, as it might be?”
“Yes, sir; I see that,” said Mr. Gardener, though still doubtfully.