"I think I can."
"This was not all, however. That afternoon I went to my now forsaken studio, previous to taking my departure from it forever. I was carefully packing my materials, when I heard a knock at the door. I opened it, and an elderly, shrewd-looking man walked into the room.
"'Are you T. Markham Worthington?' he asked.
"'I am a friend of his.'
"'Authorized to sell his picture in the Academy, Number ——?'
"'Yes.'
"'How much does he ask for it?'
"'How much are you willing to give?'
"'Not more than twenty-five dollars,'
"'That will do. Where shall it be sent?'