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told him it was the work of a "strange girl" -- he smiled when he repeated this -- who lived on El Camino Real in Claremont. He went on to say that he and Mrs. Watson had long been interested in arts and crafts. Could they see some more of my work? Up to the attic we went. We pulled fabrics off the shelves until they were bare. From time to time, he said, "How interesting" and his wife said, "This is quite beautiful." I was greatly flattered of course, but wholly unprepared for what came next.

Mr. Watson held up a piece of fabric and asked,

"Are any of these for sale?"

I was taken aback. The possibility that anyone might want to buy my weaving had not occurred to me. I stammered, "why - uh - yes, I suppose so."

"How much would you take for them?"

"You mean everything? All of this?"

"Yes," he said. "All of it. I would like to own it."