"Stained deal bedroom suite, sir--not oak."
Mr. Waddington seemed about to choke. He ignored the interruption,
however, and went on with his description of the lot.
"A magnificent oak bedroom suite, complete and as good as new, been in
use for three weeks only. The deceased gentleman whose effects we are
disposing of, and who is known to have been a famous collector of
valuable furniture, told me himself that he found it at a farmhouse in
Northumberland. Look at it, ladies and gentlemen. Look at it. It'll
bear inspection. Shall we say forty-five guineas for a start?"
Mr. Waddington paused expectantly. Burton leaned over from his place.
"The suite is of stained deal," he said distinctly. "It has been very
cleverly treated by a new process to make it resemble old oak, but if
you examine it closely you will see that what I say is correct. I
regret that there has been an unfortunate error in the description."
For a moment there was a tumult of voices and some laughter. Mr.
Waddington was red in the face. The veins about his temples were
swollen and the hammer in his hand showed a desire to descend on his
clerk's head. A small dealer had pulled out one of the drawers and was
examining it closely.
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