“I may have it—do you mean you give it to me?” I questioned, staring, as it passed into my hand.
“Oh, yes.”
“But it’s worth money—a large sum.”
“Well!” said Miss Tita, still with her strange look.
I did not know what to make of it, for it could scarcely mean that she wanted to bargain like her aunt. She spoke as if she wished to make me a present. “I can’t take it from you as a gift,” I said, “and yet I can’t afford to pay you for it according to the ideas Miss Bordereau had of its value. She rated it at a thousand pounds.”
“Couldn’t we sell it?” asked Miss Tita.
“God forbid! I prefer the picture to the money.”
“Well then keep it.”
“You are very generous.”
“So are you.”