Quinney had heard this story from Tomlin and others, but the benevolent appearance of his visitor put suspicion to flight, as it had done scores of times before. It was quite impossible to believe that an old gentleman, who bore such an amazing resemblance to one venerated as the Lord’s anointed, could have begun his career as a rapper! "Anything of interest to show me?" asked Gustavus blandly. He treated everybody, except his own understrappers, with distinguished courtesy. He spoke to Quinney, whom he despised, exactly as he would have spoken to a Grand Duke. "Glad to take you round, Mr. Lark." "I am told that you do not sell to dealers." "That’s as may be. I want to build up a business with private customers." "Quite right. My own methods." He glanced round the shop, which was divided roughly into sections. In the first were genuine bits; in the second were the best reproductions conspicuously labelled as such. The reproductions were so superlatively good that Lark recognized at once the character of the man who had so audaciously exposed them. Then and there he made up his mind that Quinney was to be reckoned with. He smiled as he waved a white hand protestingly at a piece of tapestry which might have challenged the interest of an expert. He had sold such tapestry as old Gobelins, and he knew that the maker of it only dealt with a chosen few. "Wonderful, isn’t it?" said Quinney. "You mean to sell first-class copies as such?" "Yes. I guarantee what I sell, Mr. Lark, as—as you do." "I don’t sell fakes." "Not necessary in your case. Will you come upstairs?" "With pleasure." Quinney was trembling with excitement. Gustavus noticed this, and went on smiling. Pressland had prepared him. He praised and appraised many things in the sanctuary, but he merely glanced at the commode. "I want you to look at this, Mr. Lark." "Bless me! Is that the commode which you bought in Melshire?" "It is. What do you think of it?" Gustavus protruded a large lower lip; his eyebrows, strongly marked, expressed surprise, a twinkle in his left eye indicated discreet amusement. "Why isn’t it downstairs with the others?" "The others?" "By the side of that piece of tapestry." "It’s the best bit I have," said Quinney defiantly. "Surely not. I have bought such tapestry as yours before. I will admit that I paid a big figure for it. We dealers are sadly done sometimes. This commode is quite as good in its way as the Gobelins, but it ought not to be next that cabinet." "Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Lark, that you call it a fake?" "A fake—no. A copy admirably executed—yes." "Oh, Lord!" He made no attempt to conceal his distress. Gustavus patted his shoulder encouragingly. "I may be mistaken. I am often mistaken." "You?"