“But how will I feed my children?” asked the dealer, his arms raised above his head.
“The same way I feed mine,” said Kendall-Hume, laughing. “By making a fair profit.”
The dealer paused as if reconsidering, then said, “I can’t do it, sir. I’m sorry. We must show you some other carpets.” The assistants came forward on cue.
“No, that’s the one I want,” said Mrs. Kendall-Hume. “Don’t quarrel over a thousand pounds, pet.”
“Take my word for it, madam,” the dealer said, turning toward Mrs. Kendall-Hume. “My family would starve if we only did business with customers like your husband.”
“Okay, you get the twenty thousand, but on one condition.”
“Condition?”
“My receipt must show that the bill was for ten thousand pounds. Otherwise I’ll only end up paying the difference in customs duty.”
The dealer bowed low as if to indicate he did not find the request an unusual one.
Mr. Kendall-Hume opened his wallet and withdrew ten thousand pounds in travelers’ checks and ten thousand pounds in cash.
“As you can see,” he said, grinning, “I came prepared.” He removed another five thousand pounds and, waving it at the dealer, added, “and I would have been willing to pay far more.”
The dealer shrugged. “You drive a hard bargain, sir. But you will not hear me complain now the deal has been struck.”
The vast carpet was folded, wrapped, and a receipt for ten thousand pounds made out while the travelers’ checks and cash were paid over.
The Robertses had not uttered a word for twenty minutes. When they saw the cash change hands it crossed Margaret’s mind that it was more money than the two of them earned in a year.
“Time to get back to the yacht,” said Kendall-Hume. “Do join us for lunch if you choose a carpet in time.”
“Thank you,” said the Robertses in unison. They waited until the Kendall-Humes were out of sight, two assistants bearing the orange and yellow carpet in their wake, before they thanked the dealer for the coffee and in turn began to make their move toward the door.
“What sort of carpet were you looking for?” asked the dealer.
“I fear your prices are way beyond us,” said Christopher politely. “But thank you.”
“Well, let me at least find out. Have you or your wife seen a carpet you liked?”
“Yes,” replied Margaret, “the small carpet, but…”
“Ah, yes,” said the dealer. “I remember madam’s eyes when she saw the Hereke.”
He left them, to return a few moments later with the little soft-toned red and blue carpet with the green base that the Kendall-Humes had so firmly rejected. Not waiting for assistance he rolled it out himself for the Robertses to inspect more carefully.
Margaret thought it looked even more magnificent the second time and feared that she could never hope to find its equal in the few hours left to them.
“Perfect,” she admitted, quite unashamedly.
“Then we have only the price to discuss,” said the dealer kindly. “How much were you wanting to spend, madam?”
“We had planned to spend three hundred pounds,” said Christopher, jumping in. Margaret was unable to hide her surprise.
“But we agreed—” she began.
“Thank you, my dear, I think I should be left to handle this.”
The dealer smiled and returned to the bargaining.
“I would have to charge you six hundred pounds,” he said. “Anything less would be daylight robbery.”