“Thank you, sir,” said Mr. Webb, in the midst of a laugh. “I am bid twenty thousand guineas for Lot 16, twenty thousand guineas _are_ bid ... and five hundred on my right ... twenty-one thousand on my left ... thank you again, sir: twenty-two thousand guineas. Twenty-two thousand guineas. Surely no one wishes to see this lot withdrawn? Twenty-two thousand guineas. And five hundred. And two hundred and fifty more. Twenty-two thousand seven hundred and fifty guineas....” “Twenty-three thousand,” said the solicitor who had come with the Brazilian. People craned forward now to see and to hear. The Brazilian had been generally pointed out as the most likely buyer, and until he or his man took up the bidding it could be disregarded as preliminary. The small fry of the agents served to run it up into workable figures, after which it would certainly pass beyond them. The duel, it was guessed, would lie between the American and the Brazilian. “Twenty-four thousand,” called out one of the agents in a sort of dying flourish. “And five hundred,” said another, not to be outdone. “Twenty-five thousand,” said the Brazilian’s solicitor. “Twenty-five thousand guineas _are_ bid,” said the auctioneer. “Twenty-five thousand guineas. I am authorised by Mr. Nutley, the solicitor acting for this estate, to tell you ...” he glanced down at Nutley, who nodded, “... to tell you that this sum had already been offered, and refused, at the estate office. If, therefore, no gentleman is willing to pass beyond twenty-five thousand guineas, I shall be compelled ... and five hundred, thank you, sir. Twenty-five thousand five hundred guineas.” Most people present supposed that this sum came very near to being adequate, and a murmur to this effect passed up and down the room. People looked at Chase, who was as white as death and sat with his eye fixed upon the floor. The American, good-humouredly enough, was trying to take the measure of the unruffled young man; judging from the slight shrug he gave, he did not think he stood much chance, but nevertheless he called, “Keep the ball rolling. Two hundred and fifty more.” The room began to take sides, most preferring the straight forward vulgarity of the jolly American to the outlandishness of the young man, which baffled and put them ill at their ease. (Nutley found time to think that the youth of the neighbourhood would need some time before it recovered from the influence of that young man, even if he were to pass away with the day.) Those who had the habit of sale-rooms thought Chase lucky in having two men, both keen, against one another to run up a high price. They bent forward with their elbows on their knees and their chins in their hands, to listen. “And two hundred and fifty more,” capped the solicitor.