“The auctioneer had taken his time over the sale and, understandably, had kept the best lots until last. Tavy was glad to see that the hideous whatnot failed to reach its reserve, and the glum Scottish cattle went for a tenner, probably, as Jago said, for the frame. When the walnut table and chairs finally came up for sale, and hands were raised round the room, Tavy nudged him. ‘Aren’t you going to bid?’ she whispered. He shook his head. ‘The auctioneer’s doing that for me, on commis...sion.’ ‘That man who was watching us—he wants them too.’ ‘Only if he can make a profit on resale,’ Jago returned softly. ‘Whereas I’m buying them for myself.’ ‘But he’ll force up the price,’ she said. ‘You must have set a limit.’ ‘I’ll pay whatever I have to,’ he said. ‘For something I really want.’ The tawny eyes rested on her ironically. ‘Don’t you know that yet, Octavia?’ She stared down at her catalogue.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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