I told him I had never yet sold a picture, and did not know what price to set upon it. 'What have you done with the rest?' he said, looking round the room again. 'This isn't the first you've painted.' His bluntness amused me, and I laughed. He saw my circumstances, and there could be no service in disguise. I told him of my estimable Uncle. 'H'm?' he said, lifting his eyebrows. Then suddenly, 'What do you get on 'em?' 'Twelve and sixpence each.' 'How many has he got?' 'Nine,' I answered. 'Got the tickets?' he said, examining the picture on the easel. I produced them from a drawer. 'Five pounds fourteen,' he said to himself. 'A pound 'll pay the interest. Call it six ten, roughly. Got anybody you can send out for 'em?' I rang the bell, and by-and-by my landlady appeared. 'Look here,' said the stranger, taking out a purse. 'Take this six pounds ten and that lot of pawn tickets, and send somebody to the pawnbroker's to bring the pictures out.' My landlady took the money and went downstairs. In ten minutes she came back again with a boy behind her, carrying all my canvas children home again. During this time the stranger said nothing. Now he took the change in silver and copper from my landlady, said 'Eight,' and nothing more, and then set the pictures one by one on the easel and looked at them all in turn. When he had satisfied himself, he turned on me again. 'Now, Signor----' 'Calvotti'--I helped him with my name. 'Now, Signor Calvotti, what do you want for the lot?' I entered into his business humour as well as I could. 'Permit me to ask what you are prepared to give?' 'Oh,' he said emphatically, 'I can't be buyer _and_ seller. How much for the lot?' I thought it over. I knew the pictures were good--that they were better than many I had seen sold for high prices. I spoke quietly, but with inward desperation. 'A hundred pounds.' My landlady clasped her hands. 'What?' said the stranger sharply. 'Say seventy-five.' My landlady absolutely curtsied, with her hands clasped. 'If you think that is a fair price,' I said. The stranger looked at me for a minute, then turned to my landlady. 'Pardon me a minute,' he said, waving a backward hand to me. Then to the landlady; 'What sort of gentleman is this? Dissipated dog, eh?' 'Lord bless you, no, sir,' said the landlady; 'the steadiest gentleman I ever had in the house.' 'H'm,' said the stranger, facing round on me. 'Want a hundred pounds for 'em, eh? Very well. If I can't get 'em for less. Pen and ink anywhere? Ah, I see.' He wrote a cheque standing at the table. Then he produced a card. 'That's my address. Glad to see you, if you'll call. Any Friday evening after eight. I've got a cab at the door, and I'll take these away at once.' I was embarrassed by a terrible suspicion. I had read and heard much of London fraud.