you."

'Now, you must remember that I was in my best clothes, and I certainly
didn't look like a penniless clerk. If the fellow had struck a blow at me,
I couldn't have been more astonished than I was by that answer.
Astonishment was the first feeling, and it lasted about a second; then my
heart gave a great leap, and began to beat violently, and for a moment I
couldn't see anything, and I felt hot and cold by turns. I can remember
this as well as if it happened yesterday; I must have gone through it in
memory many thousands of times.'

I observed his face, and saw that even now he suffered from the
recollection.

'When he had spoken, the blackguard turned away. I couldn't move, and the
wonder is that I didn't swallow his insult, and sneak out of the place,--I
was so accustomed, you see, to repress myself. But of a sudden something
took hold of me, and pushed me forward,--it really didn't seem to be my own
will. I said, "Wait a minute"; and the man turned round. Then I stood
looking him in the eyes. "Are you here," I said, "to sell pictures, or to
insult people who come to buy?" I must have spoken in a voice he didn't
expect; he couldn't answer, and stared at me. "I asked you the price of
that water-colour, and you will be good enough to answer me civilly." Those
were my very words. They came without thinking, and afterwards I felt
satisfied with myself when I remembered them. It wouldn't have been
unnatural if I had sworn at him, but this was the turning-point of my life,
and I behaved in a way that surprised myself. At last he replied, "The
price is forty guineas," and he was going off again, but I stopped him. "I
will buy it. Take my name and address." "When will it be paid for?" he
asked. "On Monday."

'I followed him to the table, and he entered my name and address in a book.
Then I looked straight at him again. "Now, you understand," I said, "that
that picture is mine, and I shall either come or send for it about one
o'clock on Monday. If I hadn't wanted it specially, you would have lost a
sale by your impertinence." And I marched out of the room.

'But I was in a fearful state. I didn't know where I was going,--I walked
straight on, street after street, and just missed being run over half a
dozen times. Perspiration dripped from me. The only thing I knew was that I
had triumphed over a damned brute who had insulted me. I had stopped his
mouth; he believed he had made a stupid mistake; he could never have
im