“You think so, my tear young man? Tear, tear, how little you know of the trade! I’ll give you five pounds for the lot, and then I doubt if I shall make any profit,” and the dealer looked determined.
“Say ten pounds, and it’s a bargain,” said Kavanagh.
“No, I say five, and I mean five. Take it, or leave it.”
“Well, to have done with all bother, we will make it seven pounds,” cried Kavanagh, who was amused with his first attempt at making a deal of the kind.
The Jew compressed his lips and shook his head.
“Very good, then,” said Kavanagh, dragging one of the portmanteaus towards him, and beginning to pack it. “I will try my luck over the way there. I see it is so close a cab will not be necessary; I can carry the things across. Sorry to have troubled you.”
“Here, stop a bit,” said the Jew. “Say six pounds, and that is a more generous offer than you will get anywhere else.”
Kavanagh went on with his packing.
“Well, six ten, and that will swallow up all my profit, I fear, but I’ll risk it for once. Well, come, seven pounds then, since you must have it.”
So Kavanagh left goods and chattels, which had cost about seventy pounds, behind him, and walked out with a tenth part of that sum in cash.