In my art dealings, I always wanted the dealer to make a fair profit, and saw to it that he did. I also tried to make sure he was not making a fabulous profit on his sale to me. I have found some dealers quite versed in economics; if they have had a good first nine months of business profits, they tend to prefer to hold back on selling until their new fiscal year starts, or until they can sell for much higher prices. I always feel with some dealers that a price is not fixed in their mind at the moment when they first quote you one; they seem to be weighing my interest in the particular artist, watching my reaction to the painting very closely, then they take a deep breath and try you out with a quotation.

I was recently in a somewhat embarrassing situation. I had for several years owned an early drawing by Cézanne—a mythological subject titled Aeneas Meeting Dido at Carthage. I subsequently found a photograph in a book on Cézanne's works of a watercolor of the same subject. I was on the lookout for this watercolor, as it would complement my drawing. While in Zurich recently I dropped in at a well-known gallery, and the proprietor brought out the very watercolor I was looking for. She explained that she had just purchased it from the grandson of Cézanne and had not had time to study it. She knew it to be a mythological early work and, knowing of my great interest in Cézanne, asked me what I thought it represented. I did not want to stray from the truth; on the other hand, I did not want to play up the importance of the watercolor, so I somehow managed to change the subject. After I had purchased the watercolor, at an eight percent discount from the original asking price, I explained what the subject was and that I already owned the original drawing. I then asked the dealer what her reaction would have been as to the price if I had explained my knowledge before she quoted me. She was very frank in saying that her original asking price would not have been higher but neither would there have been a discount given.