It is quite impossible to exaggerate the results that flowed directly and indirectly from this memorable interview. In the first place, Quinney secured a patron and friend who was all-powerful in a large county. Lord Mel kept open house; he entertained the greatest men in the kingdom. He sent his guests to the man whom he affirmed positively to be the only honest dealer that he knew; he brought experts to whom Quinney listened feverishly, sucking their special knowledge from them, as a greedy child sucks an orange. He allowed our hero access to his own collections, permitted him to make an inventory of them, and later discarded upon his advice certain questionable specimens. In a word, this oddly-assorted couple became friends, comrades, in their indefatigable quest for beautiful objects. It was Lord Mel who dispatched Quinney to Ireland—one of his richest hunting grounds. In Ireland Quinney fell passionately in love with old cut-glass, at a time when the commercial demand for it was almost negligible. In fine, Lord Mel discovered Quinney and trained him to discover himself. *III* Picture to yourself Tomlin’s amazement and disgust when he paid his next visit to the ancient town some three weeks after the sale of the panels. And it must be admitted that he had reason for complaint, and that his first comment upon Quinney’s astounding proceedings was justified. "You don’t seem to have thought of me!" "I didn’t," said Quinney, with admirable simplicity. "I told you about that fellow in Brittany; I sent you to him; I provided half the cash, and I was counting upon big profits. You’ve let me down badly." "Looks like it, to be sure!" "Damned outrage, I call it!" "So it is; but I was desperate. Susan was dying. I never thought of you at all. Now, look here! Don’t overheat yourself! You was counting upon a fifty per cent. profit." "Perhaps more." "You do like to get your fore-feet into the trough. Any Jew blood in your family? Keep cool! At first we got our big profit, and how much stuff did we sell? Very little. Now I’ve orders coming in faster than I can fill ’em, and your profit, small and quick, will knock endways the big and slow. See?" Eventually he made Tomlin see, and the London dealer had to admit that Lord Mel, played by Quinney as a trump card, introduced a new element into the game. The orders were coming in. "It’s silly to be dishonest," said Quinney, "because sooner or later a feller is found out." "Honest fakes," murmured Tomlin. The contradiction in terms upset him. "That’s it. And my fakes are goin’ to be advertised as the best in the world—really fine stuff, at a price which’ll defy competition." "You’re an extraordinary man, Joe. There is something in it. Honest fakes!"