He pulled the top left drawer. It was stuck. He gave it a sharp tug, and it flew open with a dry screech.
Written in iron gall ink, in a microscopic, beautiful hand, was a date and a name: October 14, 1884. The laughter of Alice M. upon seeing the sea for the first time. buy wholesale antiques
Arthur's heart did a small, familiar skip. This piece alone, once cleaned and waxed, was worth more than he had paid for the entire truckload. It was the jackpot that made wholesale buying a drug. He pulled the top left drawer
The wrap fell away with a heavy, wet slither, revealing a solid block of wooden filing drawers. It was an old apothecary or specimens cabinet, made of dark, dense mahogany, standing five feet tall. It had forty small drawers, each fitted with a tarnished brass label holder. Written in iron gall ink, in a microscopic,
He was a man of bulk lots and freight crates. While other dealers hunted for the single, perfect Roman coin or the signed Chippendale chair, Arthur bought in volume. He bought the contents of dead clockmakers' workshops, the forgotten attics of bankrupt seaside hotels, and the entire inventories of competitors who had finally succumbed to age or exhaustion. He bought wholesale.