"Right-o! Just touch that bell, will you?"
The other obeyed, and took a closer look at one of the prints. Yes, the
date was right, 1841, and the stippling admirable.
"Nice lot of pictures, those," he said cheerfully, when the frightened
maid, much to her relief, had been told to bring another cup and a fresh
supply of toast.
"Are they?" Elkin had taken them and some kitchen furniture for a bad
debt.
"Yes. Will you sell them?"
"Well, I haven't thought about it. What'll you give?"
Furneaux hesitated.
"I can't resist anything in the art line that takes my fancy," he said,
after a pause of indecision. "What do you say to ten bob each?"
Elkin valued the lot at that figure, but Furneaux was a fool, and should
be treated as such.
"Oh, come now!" he cried roguishly. "They're worth more than that."
Furneaux reflected again.
"Three pounds is a good deal for six prints," he murmured, "but, to get
it off my mind, I'll spring to guineas."
"Make it three-ten and they're yours."
"Three guineas is my absolute limit," said Furneaux.
"Done!" cried Elkin. The original debt was under two pounds, so he had
cleared more than fifty per cent.
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