Peter made a slight waving motion with his hand, dismissing the subject,
and began talking of other things.

A quarter of an hour later he rose to go. He said good-bye, and was just
leaving the room when Ringsmith called him back.

"About those pictures--I should like to oblige you, Peter."

"Yes?"

"Where can they be seen?"

Peter Knott took a half-sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to
Ringsmith without comment. Ringsmith glanced at it and threw it on the
table.

"All right," he said, "leave it to me; I'll see what can be done, but
these aren't times to buy, you know."

"So you said," Peter replied, and went gently out of the room.

The next morning Ringsmith was early at his office. After looking over
his letters he sent for MacTavish. The shrewd Scotsman was said to be the
cleverest picture-buyer in the country. He came in, a tall, thin man,
clean-shaven, with wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Ringsmith
doesn't stand on terms of ceremony with his employees: he comes to the
point at once.

"D'you remember that Corot we sold to Peter Whelan of Philadelphia? When
was it--two or three years ago?"