Vogelstein swayed uncomfortably in his chair, puffed, swallowed, cleared his throat, and said, "There are some things one can't say right out; you know that as well as I, but I can say this: there are many great and enterprising collectors in America, and Morrison is the only one who never doubts anything he has once bought."
"An ideal client then."
"Quite so. You see the others get worried by the critics. That means exchanging, refunding—all sorts of trouble."
"But Morrison never?"
"Never; he's a true sport. He never squeals."
"Doesn't have to because he doesn't know he's hurt."
"That's right," concluded Vogelstein, his face corrugating into one ample, contented smile.
"Then the big game reduces itself into selling to Morrison."
"That's more or less it, Sir. For a critic you have a business head."
"You will excuse a rather personal question, but how do you feel about selling your best customer at enormous prices objects which you know to be false?"