"O-o-oh, Boy."
Such chests may be handsome and—rarely—elegant, but this was dainty. Standing upon short cabriole legs, it was small, but of exquisite proportions, and had been built, I judged, in the reign of Queen Anne. The walnut which had gone to its making was picked wood, and its drawers were faced with oyster-shell and inlaid with box. Their handles were perfect, and, indeed, the whole chest was untouched and without blemish, shining with that clean lustre which only wax and constant elbow-grease can bring about.
When I had examined the piece as carefully as I dared, I winked at Jill and descended into the hall.
Mr. Holly was awaiting us.
Casually I addressed him.
"There's a tallboy at the top of the stairs, labelled 207. I'm not crazy about it, but it's about the right size for a recess in my bedroom. If you like to buy that for me on a five per cent. basis——"
"Certainly, Major." He wrote in a fat notebook. "Lot 207. An' ow' 'igh will you go?"
I hesitated.
"I'll go up to a hundred pounds. But the cheaper you get it, the better for you. Understand?"
"I'm there, Major. Will you be coming back?"