The little ivory hammer circled round Mr.Primrose's head.

It was about to fall, when a quiet man with a long beard who hitherto had not joined in the bidding, lifted his head and said softly: "Eighteen hundred." "Ah!" exclaimed Mr.Primrose, "I thought so.

I thought that the owner of the greatest collection in England would not see this treasure slip from his grasp without a struggle.

Against you, Mr.Woodden." "Nineteen, sir," said Woodden in a stony voice.
"Two thousand," echoed the gentleman with the long beard.
"Twenty-one hundred," said Woodden.
"That's right, Mr.Woodden," cried Mr.Primrose, "you are indeed representing your principal worthily.

I feel sure that you do not mean to stop for a few miserable pounds." "Not if I knows it," ejaculated Woodden.