Carol handed me a marking pen, pointed out a stack of paintings and told me to calm down and start pricing. I harrumphed my way over to the pile and priced a bunch of oil paintings in a fury, only to realize that one huge signed painting, dated 1929, was of a man who looked like Freud with a Boston Terrier. I own Boston Terriers—I would have bought this painting at any price, but I had marked it $75 since I was moving quickly and angrily. So I took the painting and handed Carol $75.
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