Bruce was a regular at Eugene's gallery, he would pop in and would sit on the sofa for an hour or so and browse the folios, it was Friday and the week had been sad for him.
“How much is that one? Up there second on the right … the top row” he pointed to the wall above Eugens old worked desk to a landscape in a simple 1970s gold frame.
“Two hundred and thirty pounds sir” Bruce liked to be called sir, even though Eugene called him it in jest, Bruce had brought from him for years. A regular after all those years that was always made to feel special.
“Hmm, a bit too much“ he sighed.
”Where is the old fifty-pound folder?”
Eugene got up from his old swivel chair and routed around on the desk, works of art on paper and documents piled high on one side. He carefully pulled out an old card folder stuffed with drawings and passed it to his customer.
“Unprocessed, these ones, there are some expensive ones in there, there not all fifty pounds dear chap, but do have a look” the gallery owner and his customer stood together looking through the folder.
Bruce immediate started outing through the paper, he picked out a portrait.
“Jean-Baptiste Huet... eight hundred pounds, I'm afraid”