"Did they sound foreign?"
"In a way." He motioned along the night-shrouded line of trailers toward one with two windows glowing amber. "Let's wait inside. These bugs out here are fierce."
"Did you tell them which trailer is ours?"
"Yes. They didn't sound at all anxious to look at it. That's odd—them wanting to trade their house for a trailer."
"There's nothing odd about it. They've probably just got itchy feet like we did."
He appeared not to hear her. "Funniest-sounding language you ever heard when that argument started—like a squirt of noise."
Inside the trailer, Ted Graham sat down on the green couch that opened into a double bed for company.
"They could use a good tax accountant around here," he said. "When I first saw the place, I got that definite feeling. The valley looks prosperous. It's a wonder nobody's opened an office here before."
His wife took a straight chair by the counter separating kitchen and living area, folded her hands across her heavy stomach.