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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"The Custom of the Country"

He seemed totally unmindful of her
presence, and his air of lofty indifference was beginning to make
her wish she had not sent for him. His manner in Paris had been so
different!
Suddenly he turned and took off the glasses, which sprang back into a
fold of his clothing like retracted feelers.
"Yes." He stood and looked at her without seeing her. "Very well. I have
brought down a gentleman."
"A gentleman--?"
"The greatest American collector--he buys only the best. He will not be
long in Paris, and it was his only chance of coming down."
Undine drew herself up. "I don't understand--I never said the tapestries
were for sale."
"Precisely. But this gentleman buys only this that are not for sale."
It sounded dazzling and she wavered. "I don't know--you were only to put
a price on them--"
"Let me see him look at them first; then I'll put a price on them," he
chuckled; and without waiting for her answer he went to the door and
opened it. The gesture revealed the fur-coated back of a gentleman
who stood at the opposite end of the hall examining the bust of a
seventeenth century field-marshal.
The dealer addressed the back respectfully. "Mr. Moffatt!"
Moffatt, who appeared to be interested in the bust, glanced over his
shoulder without moving. "See here--"
His glance took in Undine, widened to astonishment and passed into
apostrophe. "Well, if this ain't the damnedest--!" He came forward and
took her by both hands.


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