"It
is a unique piece of wood, sir--a unique piece of wood, ladies and
gentlemen. Now how much shall we say for the suite? Lot number
85--twelve chairs, the table you are leaning up against, two sideboards,
and butler's tray. Shall we say ninety guineas, Mr. Sherwell? Will
you start the bidding in a reasonable manner and make it a hundred?"
"Fifty!" Mr. Sherwell declared, striking the table with his fist. "I
say fifty!"
Mr. Waddington for a moment looked pained. He laid down the hammer and
glanced around through the audience, as though appealing for their
sympathy. Then he shrugged his shoulders. Finally, he took up his
hammer again and sighed.
"Very well, then," he consented, in a resigned tone, "we'll start it at
fifty, then. I don't know what's the matter with every one to-day, but
I'm giving you a turn, Mr. Sherwell, and I shall knock it down quick.
Fifty guineas is bid for lot number 85. Going at fifty guineas!"
Burton rose once more to his feet.
"Does Mr. Sherwell understand," he asked, "that the remainder of the
suite is different entirely from the table?"
Mr. Sherwell stared at the speaker, shifted his feet a little
unsteadily and gripped the table.
"Certainly I don't," he replied,--"don't understand anything of the sort!
Where is the rest of the suite, young man?"
"Just behind you, sir," Burton pointed out, "up against the wall.
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