§ 6
That evening the man came to fetch the cheval glass. He gave her five sovereigns and two half-crowns. Though she knew that the glass was worth double and treble what she was receiving for it, she was immensely pleased by that five shillings which she had extracted solely by her own bargaining.... The rent-man called that night and nearly all the five guineas vanished in the month’s rent.... And by the late evening post came a demand note from Jackson’s, the photographers, printed on legal-looking blue paper, and informing her that if the bill of seven pounds ten and six were not paid within three days, legal proceedings would be instituted.... And it was Jackson’s in the old days where she had always met with such unfailing courtesy and consideration, Jackson’s where her photograph as an Eisteddfod prize-winner had been taken and exhibited in the front window free of charge....
She called at Trussall’s the next morning.
“About that piano,” she began.
The man was immediately all attention.
“You wish to sell it, ma’am? ... Well, my offer’s still open.”
“Yes, but I want a smaller piano as part exchange. I can’t do without a piano of some sort.... I want an upright, not such a good one as the other, of course.”
“Come into the showrooms,” he said, beckoning her to follow.
They wandered up and down long lanes of upright pianos.
“This,” he said, striking the chord of A major (always the chord of A major) on one of them—“Beautiful little instrument ... rich tone ... upright grand ... good German make—Strohmenger, Dresden ... worth forty pounds if it’s worth a penny, sell it to you for thirty-five guineas....”