'The first thing you have to do with the property is to burden it,' said Honor.
Hillary screwed up his mouth.
'You may put it so if you like.' Instead of looking round at him admiring his consequence, she reproached him.
'That is something to be ashamed of, I think,' she said.
'Not at all. If I did not, Uncle Taverner could come down on us and have a sale of our cattle and waggons and what not. But, maybe, that would suit your ideas better?'
'No,' said Honor gravely, 'not at all. No doubt you are right; but you are old enough not to have let it come to this. Your service on the farm ought to have been worth fifty pounds a year for the last four years. I doubt if it has been worth as many shillings.'
He clicked his tongue in the side of his mouth, and threw out his right leg impatiently.
'Mr. Langford has saved thousands of pounds. He puts by several hundreds every year, and his land is no better than yours.'
'Uncle Taverner is a screw.' Then, jauntily, 'we Nanspians are open-handed, we can't screw.'
'But you can save, Larry.'