Susan shrugged her small shoulders. All this talk was lamentably foolish. Men were great sillies. While they were staring at cottage number two, some enterprising stranger might snap up cottage number one. A nice sell that would be!
"Come on, Sue," said Quinney.
Miss Biddlecombe "came on" reluctantly holding her tongue because she dared not speak her mind before the agent, and very cross by reason of this abstention.
"You ain't tired?" asked Quinney, reading her face wrongly. The tenderness in his voice brought back a brace of dimples.
"Tired? Not a bit, but I'm sure that our cottage is the prettier."
"Please suspend judgment," said the agent formally. How could he divine that the pretty maid, who smiled at him so sweetly, would have suspended him from the nearest tree for being a bore and a nuisance. She smiled upon him with rage in her heart.
And, behold, the second cottage was infinitely prettier than the first. Susan gasped when she beheld it, and she was quite furious with Quinney when he said drawlingly, "This looks all right, but what's wrong with it? Why hasn't it been gobbled up long ago?"
"There is something wrong with it—the price."
"I guessed as much."
The agent explained glibly, for he, too, had learned of young Joe's great inheritance.