[He looks at hip particulars.]

Jill. [Rather agonised] Enemy, Dodo.

Auctioneer.  This chance may never come again.

     “How you’ll regret it
     If you don’t get it,”

as the poet says.  May I say five thousand six hundred, sir? [Dawker] Five thousand six hundred bid. [Hornblower] And seven. [Dawker] And eight.  For five thousand eight hundred pounds.  We’re gettin’ on, but we haven’t got the value yet.

[A slight pause, while he wipes his brow at the success of his own efforts.]

Jill.  Us, Dodo?

     [Hillcrist nods.  Jill looks over at Rolf, whose face is
     grimly set.  Chloe has never moved.  Mrs. Hillcrist whispers to
     her husband.]

Auctioneer.  Five thousand eight hundred bid.  For five thousand eight hundred.  Come along, gen’lemen, come along.  We’re not beaten.  Thank you, sir. [Hornblower] Five thousand nine hundred.  And—? [Dawker] Six thousand.  Six thousand bid.  Six thousand bid.  For six thousand!  The Centry—­most desirable spot in the county—­going for the low price of six thousand.

Hillcrist. [Muttering] Low!  Heavens!

Auctioneer.  Any advance on six thousand?  Come, gen’lemen, we haven’t dried up?  A little spirit.  Six thousand?  For six thousand?  For six thousand pounds?  Very well, I’m selling.  For six thousand once—­[He taps] For six thousand twice—­[He taps].

Jill. [Low] Oh! we’ve got it!

Auctioneer.  And one, sir? [Hornblower] Six thousand one hundred bid.

     [The solicitor touches his arm and says something, to which the
     auctioneer responds with a nod.]

Mrs. H. Blow your nose, Jack.

     [Hillcrist blows his nose.]

Auctioneer.  For six thousand one hundred. [Dawker] And two.  Thank you. [Hornblower] And three.  For six thousand three hundred. [Dawker] And four.  For six thousand four hundred pounds.  This coveted property.  For six thousand four hundred pounds.  Why, it’s giving it away, gen’lemen. [A pause.]

Mrs. H. Giving!

Auctioneer.  Six thousand four hundred bid. [Hornblower] And five. [Dawker] And six. [Hornblower] And seven. [Dawker] And eight.

     [A pause, during which, through the door Left, someone beckons
     to the solicitor, who rises and confers.]

Hillcrist. [Muttering] I’ve done if that doesn’t get it.

Auctioneer.  For six thousand eight hundred.  For six thousand eight hundred-once—­[He taps] twice—­[He tape] For the last time.  This dominating site. [Hornblower] And nine.  Thank you.  For six thousand nine hundred.