“Five hundred! Man alive! A hundred is the most I’ve ever got for any of my prints!”
“The offer stands.”
“But, see here, Kent, can you afford it? Government salaries don’t make men rich, do they?”
“Oh, I’m rich enough,” said the other impatiently. “I told you I’d made inventions. And I can certainly afford to buy it better than you can afford to keep it here.”
“What’s that?” asked the painter, surprised.
Kent repeated his final sentence, with slow emphasis. “Do you understand what I mean?” he asked, looking flatly into Sedgwick’s eyes.
“No, not in the least. Another suggestion of mystery. Do you always deal in this sort of thing?”
“Very seldom. However, if you don’t understand so much the better. When did you finish this picture?”
“Yesterday.”
“H-m! Has any one else seen it?”