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 this fine example?" It was a sudden inspiration, but those measured tones and calculating eyes gave no indication of the fact.

Sir Arthur Babraham, in his own capacity of a National Gallery trustee, began sensibly to moderate his transports. "More unlikely things, Mr. Gedge," at last he brought himself reluctantly to say. "Van Roons are very scarce, and if this one is all that he appears to be at a first glance, it will be a pity to let him leave the country."

Piously, S. Gedge Antiques thought so, too.

Sir Arthur turned to the picture again. Like M. Duponnet he seemed to have difficulty in keeping his expert gaze off that fascinating canvas.

"Reminds one," he said, "of that choice thing that was stolen from the Louvre about twenty-five years ago. The size is similar and, as I remember it, the whole composition is in some ways identical."

The old man was startled, but not visibly. "Was there one stolen from the Loov, sir?" he said, with a polite air of asking for information.

"Why, yes! Don't you remember? There was a great stir at the time. It was cut out of its frame. The French Government offered a big reward, but the work has never been recovered."

"Indeed, sir." All at once the Old Crocodile began to gambol a little. "Let's hope this ain't the boy." He gave a mild snigger. But as his next words proved there was more in that snigger than met the ear. "In the event of this little jool turning out to be stolen property, what, sir, do you suppose would be the position of the present owner?"

"Difficult to say, Mr. Gedge."