“Oh, yes, it is; now do you know whom it represents?”
“I tell you again, No.”
“It is a bust of Sir Anthony Gyde.”
“Hum,” said Freyberger, concealing the satisfaction that this confirmation of his already formed suspicion gave him. “And how do you know that?”
“Good Lord,” said Antonides. “How do I know that? Why, he has been in my shop twenty times, if once.”
“Here’s your fifteen shillings,” said the detective.
“And how about my fifteen pounds?”
“Here they are.”
“Thanks, and remember the words of an old man. If you had kept your mouth shut, it might have saved you fifteen shillings, if I hadn’t known for a certainty that you were on the Gyde case. Then I would have said, ‘Oh, he knows whom the thing represents,’ and I would have talked about it and given information for nothing. You wish to take the thing away?”
“Yes.”