"Well, well!"
Gustavus turned his broad back upon the commode, and examined the Early Worcester in the Chippendale cabinet. There was a tea-set of the Dr. Wall period, bearing the much-prized square mark, some thirty pieces of scale-blue with flowers delicately painted in richly-gilded panels.
"Is that scale-blue for sale?"
"At a price, Mr. Lark. I have had it for three years. I'm waiting for a customer who will give me two hundred pounds, not a penny less."
"Two hundred pounds? And you won't sell to the dealers who have customers who write such big cheques. Now, look here, Mr. Quinney, I am sorry for you. I know how you feel, because I have made, I repeat, sad and costly blunders myself. You don't ask enough for that scale-blue."
"Not enough?"
"I could sell that set for three hundred this afternoon. To prove that I am not boasting I will offer you two hundred guineas, cash on the nail."
"Done!" said Quinney. He added excitedly: "I'm much obliged, Mr. Lark. I wish you could send me the American gentleman."
Gustavus laughed. He looked at Quinney with quite a paternal air.
"Come, come, isn't that asking too much?"