the equivalent of 8 or 9 per cent, on your money, you should worry
about the man that carries the loan. You're paying 6 per cent, on
somebody's twelve thousand now, don't forget that..."




Chapter Eighteen


An hour later they went to see Holly Court again. It was even
lovelier than ever in the sweet spring twilight. Triangles of soft
light lay upon its dusty, yet polished, floors. Bert said that the
place certainly needed precious little furniture; Nancy added
eagerly that one maid could do all the work. She drew a happy
sketch of Bert and his friends, arriving hot and weary from the
city, on summer afternoons, going down to the bay for a plunge,
and coming back to find supper spread on the red-tiled porch. Bert
liked the idea of winter fires, with snow and darkness outside and
firelight and warmth within, and the Bradleys' friends driving up
jolly and cold for an hour's talk, and a cup of tea.

"What do you think, dear?" said Bert to his wife, very low, when
the agent had considerately withdrawn for a few minutes, and they
could confer. "Think!" repeated Nancy, in delicate reproach, "Why,
I suppose there is only one thing to think, Bert!"

"You--you like it, then?" he asked, a little nervously. "Of
course, it's a corking place, and all that. And, as Rogers says,
with what we have we could swing it easily. You see dear, I pay