“I don't deny it,” replied the dealer, “and that's just what I expect to get for it; but where do I come in in the transaction if I pay you that for it? Do you fancy I stick in auction-rooms all day by the doctor's orders? I'll give you twenty-three pounds for the picture, and if you can't let me have it for that you may burn it.”
The auctioneer laughed and walked away without condescending to reply, and with a grimace of ill-humour Mr. Goldstein left the auction-room.
“Who is that person?” asked the would-be purchaser.
“His name is Goldstein,” replied the auctioneer. “He's a picture dealer, and about as knowing as they are made. He has been nibbling at this ever since it was left with me. Of course he'll come back for it. He's no fool. He knows a good thing when he sees it.”
The auctioneer strolled down the room to his office, leaving the gentleman to digest the information which he had given him.
Now the gentleman was quite an astute person, and it did not take him long to perceive that a picture that is worth twenty-three pounds to a dealer named Goldstein is certainly worth twenty-five to a layman, so the auctioneer was not surprised when he entered his office, saying—
“Did you say that twenty-five pounds was the reserve for that picture?”
“That's the vendor's reserve, sir.”
“All right. I'll take it at that,” said the gentleman.
“Very good, sir,” said the auctioneer, and he smiled knowingly as he added, “I may tell you that Goldstein offered me twenty-three for it just now. He'll be back with me offering twenty-five within the hour. I can imagine his face when he hears that it's gone.”