The Auctioneer
On a dreary day in mid-April, a crowd gathered in a street-level space in an old brick building. A mix of youngish, middle-aged and even elderly visitors tuck white, numbered paddles under their arms. Some nose through a thick, glossy catalogue of items. Others wander, gazing and touching items in the room. Eventually, Leslie Hindman, 58, steps to the auctioneer’s podium, her emerald ring catching the light. After a brief introduction sprinkled with her dry wit, she begins with a pair of upholstered Danish armchairs, her voice remaining even-pitched as she rolls through bids. When one bidder remains, the sale…
