I know what it cost you to make up your mind to sell it at all.

And then to hear these people talk about your _wishing_ to sell it! Perhaps they think, too, we _wish_ to live in a place like this; that we _wish_ to have rugs that are darned, and chairs that are broken, and garments that are patches instead of clothes!" "Alice!" gasped Mrs.Greggory in dismayed horror.
With a little outward fling of her two hands Alice Greggory stepped back.

Her face had grown white again.
"I beg your pardon, of course," she said in a voice that was bitterly quiet.

"I should not have spoken so.

You are very kind, Mr.Henshaw, but I do not think we care to sell the Lowestoft to-day." Both words and manner were obviously a dismissal; and with a puzzled sigh William Henshaw picked up his hat.