He shuffled his feet for a little, looked about the room with the worried aspect he usually showed, brushed his lips with the back of his hand.
"You're pretty rough----" he began.
"Don't stand there talking; go get your wife," Bryant said, sharply.
Stevenson turned and walked slowly to the closed door.

He cleared his throat, stared at the panels for a moment, and at last pushed it open.
"Come out, Sarah, we're going to trade," he announced.
The woman came forth.

About her eyes was a slight redness, but on her lips there was a tremulous smile.
"I'm glad," she said, "I'm glad, John." "Yes, I decided it was a good trade to make," her husband assured her.
"No need to think it over longer." They came to where Bryant stood, unconcealed pleasure showing on Mrs.
Stevenson's face.
"You may like to see these kodak pictures of the farm and its house," the young man said, producing an envelope from a pocket.

"Take a chair here by the window, Mrs.Stevenson, where you'll have the light.

See, this one shows the house, with the trees and lilac bushes in front, and gives you a glimpse of the flower garden.