re.
"Ain't they terrible shabby-looking!" she murmured, and Ringentaub
shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
"You would look shabby, too, lady," he said, "if you would be two
hundred and fifty years old; _aber_ if you want to see what they look
like after they are restored, y'understand, I got back there one of the
rest of the set which I already sold to Mr. Paul; and I am fixing it up
for him."
As he finished speaking he walked to the rear and dragged forward a
reseated and polished duplicate of the two chairs.
"I dassent restore 'em before I sell 'em," Ringentaub explained;
"otherwise no one believes they are gen-wine."
"And how much do you say you want for them chairs, Ringentaub?" Max
asked.
"I didn't say I wanted nothing," Ringentaub replied. "The fact is, I
don't know whether I want to keep them chairs _oder_ not. You see, Mr.
Merech, Jacobean chairs is pretty near so rare nowadays that it would
pay me to wait a while. In a couple of years them chairs double in value
already."
"Sure, I know," Max said. "You could say the same thing about your whole
stock, Ringentaub; and so, if I would be you, Ringentaub, I would take a
little vacation of a couple years or so. Go round the world _mit_ Mrs.
Ringentaub, understand me, and by the time you come back you are worth
twicet as much as you got to-day; but just to help pay your rent while
you are away, Mr. Ringentaub, I'll make you an offer of thirty-five
dollars for the chairs."
Ringentaub seized a chair in each hand and dragged them noisily to one
side.
"As I was saying," he announced, "I ain't got no Florentine frames, Mr.
Merech; so I am sorry we couldn't do no business."
"Well, then, thirty-seven-fifty, Mr. Ringentaub," Max continued; and
Ringentaub made a flapping gesture with both hands.
"Say, lookyhere," he growled, "what is the use talking nonsense,
Mr. Merech? For ten dollars apiece you could get on Twenty-third
Street a couple chairs, understand me, made in some big factory,
y'understand--A-Number-One pieces of furniture--which would suit you
a whole lot better as gen-wine pieces. These here chairs is for
conoozers, Mr. Merech; so, if you want any shiny candlesticks _oder_
Moskva samovars from brass-spinners on Center Street, y'understand, a
couple doors uptown you would find plenty fakers. _Aber_ here is all
gen-wine stuff, y'understand; and for gen-wine stuff you got to pay
full price, understand me, which if them chairs stays in my store
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