The auctioneer's attempts to describe correctly the wares he
offered were met with mingled suspicion and disbelief. The one or two
articles which really had the appearance of being genuine, and over
which he hesitated, fetched enormous prices, and all the time his eager
clients eyed him suspiciously. No one trusted him, and yet it was
obvious that if he had advertised a sale every day, the room would have
been packed. Burton watched the proceedings with the utmost interest.
Once or twice people who recognized him came up and asked him questions,
to which, however, he was able to return no satisfactory reply. At one
o'clock precisely, the auctioneer, with a little sigh of relief,
announced a postponement. Even after he had left the rostrum, the
people seemed unwilling to leave the place.
"Back again this afternoon, sir?" some one called out.
"At half-past two," the auctioneer replied, with a smothered groan.
CHAPTER VIII
HESITATION
Mr. Waddington called a taxicab.
"I can't stand the Golden Lion any longer," he explained. "Somehow or
other, the place seems to have changed in the most extraordinary manner'
during the last week or so. Everybody drinks too much there. The
table-linen isn't clean, and the barmaids are too familiar.
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