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. You're entitled to your profits, but five
percent of twenty paintings means I'm giving nineteen away
for free. No, thank you."
"Come now," said Cheb. "Don't be foolish. This is money
in your pocket. Why hesitate? You can't sell this stuff,
anyway. Might as well let me take it off your hands."
Seron was silent. He had turned away to look out the
window, then glanced back at Kyra. "What do you think?"
he asked.
"I say no," she said with firm resolution. "Someday
soon," she added pointedly, following his gaze into the dark
sky, "your paintings - all of them - will be worth a great
deal more."
"You have your answer," said Seron to his brother.
"This is ridiculous," insisted Cheb. "I found a willing
buyer and you turn me down. But I'll be magnanimous. I'll
raise the offer to a full ten percent. Now what do you say?"
"No," Seron answered emphatically. "You'd best be on
your way," he added, afraid that his rage was beginning to
break through his calm exterior.
The two brothers glared at each other. Cheb could not
understand such an empty-headed artist, while Seron knew,
from sad experience, that he could never explain himself to
such a money-hungry man.
"Here, take a candle," offered Kyra
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