Mr.Martin made it clear that he was chiefly anxious to do a neighbourly turn.
"The house and the stable ain't worth much," he said, "but the farm bein' handy to my property, I own up is worth more to me than to other folks, perhaps.

So bein' old neighbours, I am willin' to give four thousand dollars, half cash down, for the hull business." "Surely that is a low figure," said Mr.Gwynne.
"Low figure!" exclaimed Mr.Martin.

"All right, I ain't pressin' it on you; but if you could get any one in this neighbourhood to offer four thousand dollars for your farm, I will give you five hundred extra.
But," he continued, "I ain't pressin' you.

Don't much matter to me." The offer came at a psychologically critical moment, when Mr.Gwynne was desperately seeking escape from an intolerable environment.
"I shall consult Mrs.Gwynne," he said, "and let you know in a few days." "Don't know as I can wait that long," said Mr.Martin.

"I made the offer to oblige you, and besides I got a chance at the Monroe fifty." "Call to-morrow night," said Mr.Gwynne, and carried the proposal home to his wife.
The suggestion to break up her home to a woman of Mrs.Gwynne's type is almost shattering.