The value of his paintings was a touchy subject for Simon; he never knew how much to price anything out. And so, usually, if someone asked what something went for, he'd just tell them to give him whatever they thought was worth it. Sometimes it was just a couple of tens, and sometimes it was more, like that old lady who bought a painting of a field he had done for several grand. Simon didn't ask questions, didn't even count the money when it was given to him. He would just nod his head, give a smile, and thank the person in question. It was still uncomfortable.
So he didn't even bring it up to Billy, preferring to dance around that awkward topic in favour of more comfortable ones. "I'll keep that in mind," he said with a crooked smile, and propping the canvases up against his foot, he gave Billy a salute with one hand. "Keep yourself well, Billy," and then he was pulling the door open and making his way out into the hall with his paintings. He paused briefly to duck his head back in for a final wave before pulling the door shut behind him, surrounded by the silence of the hallway.