The Duchess gave orders; and an elderly man, with long black hair, swarthy complexion, fine eyes, and a peaked forehead, was admitted, and greeted by her, Mrs. Fairmile, and Dr. Lelius as an old acquaintance. He sat down beside them, was given tea, and presented to Mr. and Mrs. Barnes. Daphne, who knew the famous dealer by sight and reputation perfectly well, was piqued that he did not recognize her. Yet she well remembered having given him an important commission not more than a year before her marriage.
As soon as a cup of tea had been dispatched, Marcus came to the business. He drew a small leather case out of the bag he had brought into the room with him; and the case, being opened, disclosed a small but marvellous piece of Sèvres.
"There!" he said, pointing triumphantly to a piece on the Duchess's chimney-piece. "Your Grace asked me—oh! ten years ago—and again last year—to find you the pair of that. Now—you have it!"
He put the two together, and the effect was great. The Duchess looked at it with greed—the greed of the connoisseur. But she shook her head.
"Marcus, I have no money."
"Oh!" He protested, smiling and shrugging his shoulders.
"And I know you want a brigand's price for it."
"Oh, nothing—nothing at all."
The Duchess took it up, and regretfully turned it round and round.
"A thousand, Marcus?" she said, looking up.