"You're right," I agreed, and I moved into a chair by the table and drew out my fountain pen. "We shall want a house," I began helpfully.
"A house? Oh, yes, I know. One of those things with rooms. Just one house would do for a start, I suppose?"
I regarded him sorrowfully. "Charles, this is a serious matter."
"There's humour in everything if you look for it. How about eight hundred?"
"Eight hundred!" I laughed brokenly.
"Well, seven hundred?"
"Ha! ha!"
"Six hundred? Dash it, that's very little."
"Charles," I pleaded.
"I don't want to be hard," he said, "but in justice to the people who come to stay with you I can't go any lower."