Twenty-two-two-two-two-two. One hardly noticed it. Three-three-three. Twenty-three-three-three. Twenty-three hundred dollars I am offered."
He gazed expectantly at Archie, as a man gazes at some favourite dog whom he calls upon to perform a trick. But Archie had reached the end of his tether. The hand that had twiddled so often and so bravely lay inert beside his trouser-leg, twitching feebly. Archie was through.
"Twenty-three hundred," said the high-priest, ingratiatingly.
Archie made no movement. There was a tense pause. The high-priest gave a little sigh, like one waking from a beautiful dream.
"Twenty-three hundred," he said. "Once twenty-three. Twice twenty-three. Third, last, and final call, twenty-three. Sold at twenty-three hundred. I congratulate you, sir, on a genuine bargain!"
Reggie van Tuyl had dozed off again. Archie tapped his brother-in-law on the shoulder.
"May as well be popping, what?"
They threaded their way sadly together through the crowd, and made for the street. They passed into Fifth Avenue without breaking the silence.
"Bally nuisance," said Archie, at last.
"Rotten!"
"Wonder who that chappie was?"
"Some collector, probably."
"Well, it can't be helped," said Archie.
Brother Bill attached himself to Archie's arm, and became communicative.
"I didn't want to mention it in front of van Tuyl,"
