I buy my colours and canvases and things there. They cost
money. I owed the chap two pounds once, and one morning, in the shop,
when I was opening my box to put some new tubes in, he saw one of my
pictures all wet. He offered of his own accord to take it for what I
owed him. I wouldn't let him have it. But I was rather hard up, so I
said I'd do him another instead, and I did him one in a different style
and not half as good, and of course he liked it even better. Since then,
I've done him quite a few. It isn't that I've needed the money; but it's
a margin, and colours and frames, etc. come to a dickens of a lot in a
year.
JANET. (Staggered.) And whatever does he do with them?
CARVE. With the pictures? Don't know. I've never seen one in his window.
I haven't been selling him any lately.
JANET. Why?
CARVE. Oh, I didn't feel like it. And the things were getting too good.
But, of course, I can start again any time.
JANET. (Still staggered.) Two pounds a piece? (CARVE nods.) Would he
give you two pounds for that? (Pointing to portrait.
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