i like it, tucker said aloud. it’s pretty good.
in his head he thought, it is worth two hundred and thirty million dollars.
but how much do you think it it worth? bradley asked
um - hard to say. the market is pretty volatile right now.
i am not volatile. i am starving. what will you give me for it?
it is hard to say. i could give you something for it, based on what i think i can get for it today, and then next week i might get a lot more and you would think i was cheating you.
i don’t need a lesson on economics 101 - i went to business school just like you did.
yes, those were the happy carefree days, weren’t they? will they ever come back again?
they might come back for me if you buy this painting before i starve to death.
all right - i will give you seventy-five dollars for it.
i will take it.
this is too easy, tucker thought. his hand trembled as he reached into his pocket for his wallet, and bradley noticed it.
what are you nervous about? bradley suddenly demanded. you are not trying to cheat me, are you?
you said you would take whatever i gave you.
i did not say that!
hey, keep the noise down in there - people are trying to sleep!
i am sorry, mrs moriarty , bradley shouted back. it won’t happen again.
with a wild yet crafty look in his eyes, bradley turmed back to tucker.
now, where were we?
i said i would give you seventy-five dollars for the painting - the one on the chair there.
you are trying to cheat me, man. i put my whole heart and soul into it, and it is worth at least ninety.
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