Max winked almost imperceptibly at Elkan and prepared to approach the subject of the Jacobean chairs by a judicious detour.
"Do you got maybe a couple Florentine frames, Ringentaub?" he asked; and Ringentaub shook his head.
"Florentine frames is hard to find nowadays, Mr. Merech," he said; "and I guess I told it you Friday that I ain't got none."
"I thought might you would of picked up a couple since then, maybe," Max rejoined, glancing round him. "You got a pretty nice highboy over there, Ringentaub, for a reproduction."
"That only goes to show how much you know about such things, Mr. Merech," he retorted, "when you are calling reproductions something which it is a gen-wine Shippendaler, understand me, in elegant condition."
It was now Elkan's turn to nod, and he did so with just the right degree of skepticism as at last he broached the object of his visit.
"I suppose," he said, "that them chairs over there is also gen-wine Jacobean chairs?"
"I'll tell you what I'll do with you, Mr. Merech," Ringentaub declared. "You could bring down here any of them good Fourth Avenue or Fifth Avenue dealers, understand me, or any conoozer you want to name, like Jacob Paul, _oder_ anybody, y'understand; and if they would say them chairs ain't gen-wine Jacobean I'll make 'em a present to you free for nothing."
"I ain't _schnorring_ for no presents, Mr. Ringentaub," Max declared. "Bring 'em out in the light and let's give a look at 'em."
Ringentaub drew the chairs into the centre of the floor, and placing them beneath the gas jet he stepped backward and tilted his head to one side in silent admiration.
"_Nu_, Mr. Merech," he said at last, "am I right or am I wrong? Is the chairs gen-wine _oder_ not? I leave it to your friends here."
Max turned to Elkan, who had been edging away toward the partition, from which came scraps of conversation between Dishkes and Mrs. Ringentaub.
"What do you think, Mr. Lubliner?" Max asked; and Elkan frowned his annoyance at the interruption, for he had just begun to catch a few words of the conversation in the rear room.
"Sure--sure!" he said absently. "I leave it to you and Mrs. Lubliner."
Yetta's face had fallen as she viewed the apparently decayed and rickety furniture.