“Well, he is said to have had his reasons for not loving old Enoch. It cannot have been very pleasant to owe him money.”
“So it is the inspiration of hatred! Well, there are worse inspirations.”
“Our dear grandfather was apparently not at all displeased with the caricature, though for certain reasons it cannot have been very agreeable to him. I suppose you know that Tervillius committed suicide ... just a few days after he had finished out here?”
“Oh, so this is his last work ... an anathema....”
Hedvig had silently stolen up to them and stood there staring Old Hök in the eyes whilst she listened greedily to each word that was uttered. Percy pushed his arm smilingly under Hedvig’s and eagerly solicited the condescension of his Spanish saint:
“Fancy the last masterpiece of a distinguished artist! And quite unknown to the critics. That is most remarkable.”
Peter had also come up to the picture: “Is the old fellow really worth something?” he wondered.
“Thirty thousand, at least. It’s a pity it is a family portrait as one does not dare to make an offer for it.”
The eyes of the Selambs lit up. They evidently regarded their grandfather with a new interest.
“Thirty thousand for the curse,” mumbled Hedvig with a shrug of her shoulders.