The dealers grab everything, and sell them as collections."

"Art is not in my line, though anyone can see that these are excellent."

"Yes. But you're looking at 'The Start.' Have a peep at this one,
'The Finish.' The artist _would_ have his joke. You see that the dark
horse wins."

"How did you persuade Elkin to part with them?"

"By paying him a tempting price, of course. I'm a weak-minded ass in
such matters."

The chemist busied himself to oblige the detective, wrapping and tying
the packages neatly. Furneaux insisted on paying sixpence for the paper,
string, and labor. There was quite a friendly argument, but he carried
his point.

The dog-cart then brought him to the station, where he tipped and
dismissed the man; a little later, he caught a London-bound train.

At half past seven precisely, Winter turned in through the
Knoleworth-side gate of The Hollies (there were two, the approach to
the house being semi-circular) and pushed the door open, as it was
standing ajar.

Grant was waiting in the hall, and greeted him pleasantly.

"Here's a telegram which is meant for you, I fancy," he said.