“I can't say I do, sir.”
“Well, Mrs. Heald, I will let you know in a day or two if I can take your rooms—you can give me a day or two?”
“Yes, sir, but I should like to know as soon as possible; several people have been asking after my rooms.”
“I'll let you know in a day or two.”
“If Town is only a weekly tenant, you'll be able to get his house by paying a little more for it,” said Maggie, as they walked down the green towards the smith's forge.
“That would be hardly fair; I should like to act squarely by the smith. What is his name?”
“Town.”
Town was cutting out the hoof of a shaggy grey cart horse when his visitors entered the cindery blackness.
“Town, this gentleman would like to speak to you,” said Maggie, raising her voice above the wheezy bellows. He threw the hoof out of his apron, and, drawing his blackened arm across his forehead, he came forward.
“Town, I am anxious to find a place on the green that I could convert into a studio; I think your house would suit my purpose very well. Do you think we could come to some arrangement? Of course I would give you a reasonable compensation.”