I have your tenants too in my mind.

They've had a rough time, some of them, and they've stood it like white men.
So here's from them and me to you, sir, and may we see plenty of you in these parts." Mr.Lees associated himself with these sentiments, and the glasses were speedily emptied and filled again.
"I suppose you know, Sir Everard," the agent observed, "that what you've promised to do to-day will cost a matter of ten to fifteen thousand pounds." Dominey nodded.
"Before I go to bed to-night," he said, "I shall send a cheque for twenty thousand pounds to the estate account at your bank at Wells.

The money is there waiting, put aside for just that one purpose and--well, you may just as well have it." Agent and bailiff leaned back in the tonneau of their motor-car, half an hour later, with immense cigars in their mouths and a pleasant, rippling warmth in their veins.

They had the sense of having drifted into fairyland.

Their philosophy, however, met the situation.
"It's a fair miracle," Mr.Lees declared.
"A modern romance," Mr.Johnson, who read novels, murmured.