"Ten dollars," was the reply.
"Have you the audacity," said I, "to demand such a sum for a daub like this?"
"I have."
"And how do you rate its value so high?"
"By the demand for it. I have not an article in my shop that commands so ready a sale. Those who buy know the intrinsic value of the picture better than I do. I only judge of it by the price which it will bring"—said the fellow with a roguish smile, which tempted me to knock him down.
"Well," said I, "you have killed the golden goose this time, or I am mistaken. You shall not sell another of them if I can prevent it."
"Oh I have no fear of that. The lady herself will buy them, rather than allow them to hang long in my window."
"You are an impertinent varlet, and I trust will be chastised as you deserve."
I should have said more; but Nichols hurried me away, lest my hot temper should get me into some awkward scrape—and we walked to Fenella's lodgings.
What happened there and afterwards, must be deferred to another chapter, when the reader shall be introduced into the watchhouse, and his curiosity gratified in regard to my sojourn there.