It was not easy to talk to a man’s shoulders, particularly since she loved his face. But Sarah mustered courage.
“I have a feeling about that property, Josiah. Let’s hold on to it. For good luck, dear.”
“I can’t afford to.”
“But, Josiah—listen. You seem to have forgotten. That money of mine. It ain’t much. And it’s true—we was always going to let it lie, collecting interest for the children. But it’s not enough to count, that way. And it will pay that tax, for some time to come. Let’s take a chance, Josiah. Let’s be daring—and—and take a chance. Let’s hold on to the land.”
She stopped, because somehow—despite the trifling subject—there were too many tears.
Her husband jumped up and faced her. “I’ve got no hold on your money,” he said sharply.
“Josiah!”
He felt the pain expressed in her reproach. The knowledge of it made him uncomfortable. He saw that the one decent thing which he could do was to accept.
“All right, Sarah,” he spoke stiffly,—“if you’re fool enough to want it,” and left the room.