He's entitled to something. He had the wit to fetch me here."
"The chairs are yours," I said, wondering if I had not mistaken his
offer, but determining not to betray this.
"A little memorandum of sale, if you please--and I'll give you my check.
That larger sideboard would also have stood in the way, but those glass
handles aren't the originals."
The formality was soon despatched, and my curious friend became truly
human.
"Now, Blake, this is from the grateful wretch whose life you have not
only saved but enriched. Well, there's an excellent lot of stuff there.
I've got the pick, from a collector's standpoint--though not from a
money valuation. I can't tell what it will bring, but enough to put our
youngish old friend easy for some time to come. You box it up, as much
as she wants to let go, and send it to the Empire Auction Rooms--here's
the card. They're plain auction-room people, you understand,--wouldn't
hesitate to rob you in a genteel, auction way,--but I'll be there and
see that they don't. Some of those other pieces I may want, but I'll
take a bidding chance on them like a man, and I'll watch the whole thing
through and see that it's straight."
Billy Durgin told me that Cohen and James Walsingham Price left on the
night train going East.
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