Mr.Oxford had apparently a natural discretion.

He simply accepted Priam, as he stood, for a great painter.
No reference to the enigma why a great painter should be painting in an attic in Werter Road, Putney! No inconvenient queries about the great painter's previous history and productions.

Just the frank, full acceptance of his genius! It was odd, but it was comfortable.
"So you won't take two hundred and fifty ?" asked Mr.Oxford, hopping back to business.
"No," said Priam sturdily.

"The truth is," he added, "I should rather like to keep that picture for myself." "Will you take five hundred, _maitre_ ?" "Yes, I suppose I will," and Priam sighed.

A genuine sigh! For he would really have liked to keep the picture.