If you are willing to lend it to him, he'll pay you for it when the picture is sold, which will never be, and by that time he'll--" "Dry up, you old varnish pot!" shouted Ganger, "how do you know I won't pay for it ?" "Because your picture will never be hung--that's why!" "Mr.Ganger did not want to buy it," broke in Felix, between puffs from one of his host's corn-cob pipes.

"He wanted to exchange something for it--'swap' he called it." "Oh, well," wheezed Sam, "that's another thing.

What were you going to give him in return, Nat?
Careful, now--there's not much left." "Oh, maybe some old stuff, Sammy.

Move along, you blessed little child--and you, too, Jane Hoggson! You're sitting on my Venetian wedding-chest--real, too! I bought it forty years ago in Padua.

There are some old embroideries down in the bottom, or were, unless Sam has been in here while I--Oh, no, here they are! Beg pardon, Sammy, for suspecting you.