Couples moved out of their way, but smiling
covertly.
"We shall make some bad breaks," he said at last.
"Together, though. You won't let anyone else in, will you?"
"Except the contractors. This syndicate handles, this proposition
by its little lone."
"But you might feel the want of some one," she insisted.
"I shall--but it will be you. It's business, Sophie, but it's
going to be good fun."
"Please God," she answered flushing, and cried to herself as they
went back to tea. "It's worth it. Oh, it's worth it."
The repairing and moving into Friars Pardon was business of the
most varied and searching, but all done English fashion, without
friction. Time and money alone were asked. The rest lay in the
hands of beneficent advisers from London, or spirits, male and
female, called up by Mr. and Mrs. Cloke from the wastes of the
farms. In the centre stood George and Sophie, a little aghast,
their interests reaching out on every side.
"I ain't sayin' anything against Londoners," said Cloke,
self-appointed clerk of the outer works, consulting engineer,
head of the immigration bureau, and superintendent of woods and
forests; "but your own people won't go about to make more than a
fair profit out of you.
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