"Did you look at the one at Hooper's I told you about?"
"We'll talk about that when I get home." He rang off sharply.
Mary had it spread out before he arrived. It was a beauty, she thought ruefully; but it must have cost a mint. And it didn't go too well with the new bookcases and desk.
Paul reached home a little early, tired and cross from a big deal that had hung fire for ten days. "Well, how do you like it?"
"It's a lovely piece of goods. How much was it? The tag was off."
He walked in to observe it, altering its angle slightly. "It's just what we wanted. I think we'll have another for the parlor, too." He ignored her anxious eyes, and she did not press the question.
On Sundays Nathaniel Guild usually dropped in, for a stroll over the place, after a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and coffee at seven.
There was so much they must plan together; this could be done only on the ground. Paul, of course, was living on the mountain, and his share in the land was much the larger; but both were interested in the projected development, the wide boulevards curving with the contour of the ground, the advantageous grouping of sites naturally adapted to sloping lawns and well-placed residences.
"You see, Nate, every shrub I set out, every walk we put in, every flight of steps, will increase the value, when we put it on the market."
"Waiting a few years,——"