“The house would just suit my friend, who wants quiet for his studies,” I said, “and if you will let it, I’m prepared to pay you a year’s rent down, at this minute.”
She shook her head.
I had misjudged her, believing that ready money would tempt her to a bargain. But she was a woman of her word, it seemed, for her answer was: —
“No, sir. I’m very sorry, but you see I gave a promise to the gentleman, and I can’t break it.”
“But you didn’t give your promise in writing, did you? You did not give him an option of the property?”
“I wrote nothing. I merely told him that I wouldn’t let it before he had given me a decided answer.”
“He may be a year deciding, or even more!” I pointed out. “Are you prepared to wait all that time?”
“No. I can write to him.”
Such a course would not suit me. If she wrote saying that she had another prospective tenant, then he would clinch his bargain at once. No; my object was to oust him in this. He had outwitted me once, but I was determined he should not get the better of me on a second occasion.
My next thought was to offer a higher rent than that asked, so as to give her a margin of profit on the transaction, but suddenly a thought occurred to me that it was her husband, not herself, who held the lease, and perhaps I might not find him so scrupulous about keeping promises if there was a ten-pound note to be got out of the bargain.