And he was afraid.

He was mortally apprehensive, and had a sickly sensation in the stomach.
After they had scrupulously inspected the picture, through the clouds of incense, Mr.Oxford wrote out a cheque for five hundred pounds, and, cigar in mouth, handed it to Priam, who tried to take it with a casual air and did not succeed.

It was signed 'Parfitts'.' "I dare say you have heard that I'm now the sole proprietor of this place," said Mr.Oxford through his cigar.
"Really!" said Priam, feeling just as nervous as an inexperienced youth.
Then Mr.Oxford led Priam over thick carpets to a saloon where electric light was thrown by means of reflectors on to a small but incomparable band of pictures.

Mr.Oxford had not exaggerated.

They did give pleasure to Priam.