“Am I worth no more than $500?” put in Curves.
“I’ll make it $750,” said one of the men who had accompanied her.
“You paid twice as much for a horse last week, Billy,” she retorted.
“I didn’t think of that. Let it go at $1,500, for there’s going to be competition.”
The priest’s hand was nervously fingering a silk handkerchief.
“Two thousand,” the first bidder’s voice came like a bullet from a gun, and Billy laughed nervously.
“Go ahead, Billy, it’s up to you again,” and Curves nodded at him encouragingly.
“She’s worth it, Bill,” whispered his friend. “Your Panhard cost you $11,000 and it takes $100 a week to keep it going. Curves can be very economical when she tries,” and he laughed at his joke.
“Twenty-five hundred,” bid Billy.
“Sold,” cried Curves, “although I’m worth more.”