He moistened the wool with a solvent, which he kept in a bottle, a mysterious compound of vegetable oils and mineral water; and then, not too hard, he began to rub the surface of the picture.
"I hope we shall," said June, doubtfully. And she went downstairs with an air of scepticism she was unable to hide.
Supper, in the main, was an affair of bread and cheese and a jug of beer, drawn from the barrel in the larder. It was not taken until a quarter past nine when S. Gedge Antiques had returned from Clerkenwell. The old man was in quite a good humour; in fact, it might be said, to verge upon the expansive. He had managed to buy the Queen Anne sofa for four pounds.
"You've got a bargain, sir," said William. It was William who had discovered the sofa, and had strongly advised its purchase.
"That remains to be seen," said his master, who would have been vastly disappointed had there been reason to think that he had not got a bargain.
After supper, when the old man had put on his slippers and an ancient smoking cap that made him look like a Turkish pasha, he took from the chimneypiece a pipe and a jar of tobacco, drew the easy chair to the fire, and began to read the evening paper.
"By the way, boy," he remarked, quizzingly, "have you started yet on that marvellous thing you were clever enough to buy at Ipswich?"
"Crowdham Market, sir."
"Crowdham Market, was it? Well, my father used to say that fools and money soon part company."
June, who was clearing the table, could not forbear
