"I hope not," said the young fellow absently. "Egad! So do I." And to the workmen--"Philemon and Baucis by Rembrandt! Hang 'em up next to that Romney--over the Jan Steen ... Quarren?" "Yes?" "Do you think that St. Michael's Mount is a real Turner?" "It looks like it. I can't express opinions off-hand, Dankmere." "I can," said the little Earl; "and I say that if that _is_ a Turner I can beat it myself working with tomato catsup, an underdone omelette, and a clothes-brush.... Hello! I like this picture. The list calls it a Watteau--'The Fête Champêtre.' What do you know about it, Quarren?" "Nothing yet. It seems to be genuine enough." "And this pretty girl by Boucher?" "I tell you, Dankmere, that I don't know. They all appear to be genuine, after a superficial examination. It takes time to be sure about any picture--and if we're going to be certain it will require confabs with authorities--restorers, dealers, experts, curators from various museums--all sorts and conditions of people must be approached and warily consulted--and paid," he added smiling. "And that has to be done with circumspection because some are not honest and we don't want anybody to get the impression that we are attempting to bribe anybody for a favourable verdict." A few minutes later he went across the street and telegraphed to Molly Wycherly: "May I remind you that you asked me to Witch-Hollow? QUARREN." The following morning after the workmen had departed, he and Dankmere stood contemplating the transformations wrought in the office, back parlour, and extension of Quarren's floor in the shabby old Lexington Avenue house. The transformation was complete; all woodwork had been painted white, a gray-green paper hung on the walls, the floor stained dark brown and covered with several antique rugs which had come with the pictures--a Fereghan, a Ladik, and an ancient Herez with rose and sapphire lights in it. At the end of the suite hung another relic of Dankmere Tarns--a Gobelins tapestry about ten by twelve, signed by Audran, the subject of which was Boucher's "Venus, Mars, and Vulcan" from the picture in the Wallace Collection. Opposite it was suspended an old Persian carpet of the sixteenth century--a magnificent Dankmere heirloom woven in the golden age of ancient Eastern art and displaying amid the soft splendour of its matchless hues the strange and exquisitely arched cloud-forms traced in forgotten dyes amid a wilderness of delicate flowers and vines. Between these two fabrics, filling the walls from base-board to ceiling, were ranged Dankmere's pictures. Few traces of the real-estate office remained--merely a desk, letter-file, a shelf piled up with maps, and Quarren's shingle outside; but this was now overshadowed by the severely magnificent sign: THE DANKMERE GALLERY OF OLD MASTERS ALGERNON FAYRE, R. S. QUARREN & Co.