"Well, per'aps it wasn't strictly business-like. But I think, under the circumstances, 'e was morally--_morally_--justified. And I think he will consider I've responded very handsomely." "You've made him an offer, then?" "I made it three days ago, provisionally, and he's accepted it," said Isaac, with some heat. "Why, he's got the cheque." "For how much?" "For twelve hundred." "My dear father, you know, really, that won't do." "Do you think it was foolish to pay the two hundred extra?" Isaac gazed at him over his fine gold-rimmed spectacles; and as he gazed he kept drawing his beard slowly through one lean and meditative hand. It was thus that he grasped his son's argument and drew it to a point. "Foolish? It was--Don't you see? We--we simply can't do it." "Why, you said yourself we could go as far as four thousand five, or four thousand at the very least." Keith looked steadily at his father, who was too deeply and solemnly absorbed to perceive the meaning of the look. "That was not quite what I said. I said--if we were _not_ prepared to go so far, it was our duty to withdraw. I thought I had made that clear to you." "You 'aven't made it clear to me why you're objecting to that two hundred now." Isaac was beginning to feel that stupidity was now his refuge. "I'm not objecting to your reckless extravagance, as you seem to think. I'm trying to suggest that twelve hundred is a ridiculously small offer for a collection which can't be worth less than four thousand." "It may be worth that to a collector. It isn't worth it to me." "It's worth it to any dealer who knows his business." "Pretty business, if you have to buy at fancy prices and sell at a risk." "I allowed for the risk in the valuation--I always do. There's one point where you _are_ extravagant, if you like. What's the use of paying me for advice if you won't take it?" Isaac's stupidity increased. "'Ow do you mean--paying you for your advice?" "Paying a valuer, then, if you won't accept his valuation." So unwilling was he to admit the sharpness of his father's practice that he tried to persuade himself that they had merely disagreed on a point of connoisseurship. "My advice, if you remember, was to withdraw decently, or pay a decent price." "I've paid my price, and I'm certainly not going to withdraw." "Well, but I'm afraid, if you won't withdraw, I must. You haven't paid _my_ price, and I can't be responsible." Isaac caressed his beard gently, and looked at Keith with a gaze so clear that it might have passed for pure. He was saying to himself, as he had said once before, "There's a woman in it." "Don't you see," Keith broke out, "the atrocious position that I'm in? I promised Miss Harden that we'd do our best for her, and now we're taking advantage of the situation to drive an iniquitous bargain with her."