The suggestion was so surprising that for a moment I had nothing to say, but I recovered quickly, knowing that if there was an explanation it would appear in due course.
“What are you prepared to offer for it?” I demanded cautiously. “Since, apparently, you want the house, you should be prepared to bid high for it. That makes a difference, doesn’t it? The seller who wants to sell would take less than—”
“Well, it’s like this,” Thoyne said persuasively. “I shouldn’t have thought of it but for Dr. Crawford. He gave me the idea. ‘I wish he were staying amongst us,’ he said, ‘but I’m afraid, he’ll not be here long! A very charming young—’ yes, those were his words.”
“Almost photographic in their accuracy,” I said dryly.
“‘But he wants a customer for his house—hankers after the fleshpots of London,’ said the doctor. And I thought that perhaps—”
“I believe I did make some such remark—casually,” I said. “But Dr. Crawford took it too seriously. This place improves on acquaintance. No, on the whole, I don’t think I want to sell.”
“But—”
“Oh, let us forget Dr. Crawford. I do not want to sell, therefore I must be tempted. It is your turn now—to tempt me.”
“I would give you—four thousand pounds.”
“The place isn’t worth that.”