"
"Yes, Mr. Somers. I'll wait half an hour for you in the sale room, and
I promise that no one shall see that flower till you return."
"Thank you. You are a good fellow, and I promise you shall lose
nothing by your kindness if I can help it."
We went together into the sale room, where some thought suddenly
struck Mr. Somers.
"By Jove!" he said, "I nearly forgot about that Odontoglossum. Where's
Woodden? Oh! come here, Woodden, I want to speak to you."
The person called Woodden obeyed. He was a man of about fifty,
indefinite in colouring, for his eyes were very light-blue or grey and
his hair was sandy, tough-looking and strongly made, with big hands
that showed signs of work, for the palms were horny and the nails worn
down. He was clad in a suit of shiny black, such as folk of the
labouring class wear at a funeral. I made up my mind at once that he
was a gardener.
"Woodden," said Mr. Somers, "this gentleman here has got the most
wonderful orchid in the whole world. Keep your eye on him and see that
he isn't robbed.
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