"Then I understand," said the widow, with an air, gathering herself together as if to depart, "that you won't take my offer."
"Oh, come now," protested Snaffle, "why don't you ask me to give it to you as I did the other?"
"So delicate of him," murmured the widow, confidentially to the universe at large, "to fling that at me."
"I ain't flinging it at you," Snaffle returned, unabashed. "But, come now, let's talk business. If I give you an option on this, so long as you are going to sell it at three dollars, of course you ought to pay me more than the market price. I'll be d'ed if I let you have it less than two and a half."
"One doesn't know which to admire most, Mr. Snaffle, your politeness to ladies or your generosity."
"Oh, don't mention it," was the speculator's grinning reply. "Come, now, don't be a pig. Twenty per cent profit ought to satisfy anybody."
"I'll give you two," said Mrs. Sampson, with feminine persistency.
Snaffle turned on his heel with a word seldom spoken in the presence of ladies.
"Well, you might as well get out of this, then," he remarked, brusquely. "You're a beauty, but you don't know anything about business."
Amanda regarded him with an inscrutable glance for an instant, evidently making up her mind that he meant what he said.