“So I assume; since it was the express condition on which I authorized your purchases.”
Lewis felt himself shrinking and his father expanding; but he sent a glance along the wall, and beauty shed her reviving beam on him.
Mr. Raycie’s brows projected ominously; but his face remained smooth and dubious. Once more he cast a slow glance about him.
“Let us,” he said pleasantly, “begin with the Raphael.” And it was evident that he did not know which way to turn.
“Oh, sir, a Raphael nowadays—I warned you it would be far beyond my budget.”
Mr. Raycie’s face fell slightly. “I had hoped nevertheless ... for an inferior specimen....” Then, with an effort: “The Sassoferrato, then.”
Lewis felt more at his ease; he even ventured a respectful smile. “Sassoferrato is all inferior, isn’t he? The fact is, he no longer stands ... quite as he used to....”
Mr. Raycie stood motionless: his eyes were vacuously fixed on the nearest picture.
“Sassoferrato ... no longer ...?”
“Well, sir, no; not for a collection of this quality.”