A fringe of gray beard surrounded his clean-shaven face, which was criss-crossed with innumerable little furrows that the wind and rain had worn in it; but a pair of shrewd old eyes twinkled from under his bushy eyebrows.
"Morning, 'Ennery," he said, addressing the chauffeur with a squeaky little voice in which, though after forty years of residence in America, there was still a strong trace of British accent; and then his calculating gaze rested calmly in turns upon the other occupants of the machine.
"Good morning, Mr.Gifford," returned the chauffeur.

"Fine day, isn't it ?" "Good corn-ripenin' weather," agreed the old man, squinting at the sky from force of habit, and then, being satisfied that there was no threatening cloud in all the visible blue expanse, he returned to a calm consideration of the strangers, waiting patiently for Mr.Turner to introduce himself.
"I understand, Mr.Gifford, that you are open to an offer for your walnut trees," began Mr.Turner, looking at his watch.
"Well, I might be," admitted the old man cautiously.
"I see," returned Sam; "that is, you might be interested if the price were right.

Let's get right down to brass tacks.

How much do you want ?" "Standin' or cut ?" "Well, say standing ?" "How much do you offer ?" Miss Stevens' gaze roved from the one to the other and found enjoyment in the fact that here Greek had met Greek.
Sam's reply was prompt and to the point.

He named a price.
"No," said the old man instantly.