[Hillcrist has taken out his handkerchief.]

Jill.  Oh!  Dodo!

Mrs. H. [Quivering] Don’t give in!

Auctioneer.  Seven thousand may I say? [Dawker] Seven thousand.

Mrs. H. [Whispers] Keep it down; don’t show him.

Auctioneer.  For seven-thousand—­going for seven thousand—­once—­ [Taps] twice [Taps] [Hornblower] And one.  Thank you, sir.

[Hillcrist blows his nose.  Jill, with a choke, leans back in her seat and folds her arms tightly on her chest.  Mrs. Hillcrist passes her handkerchief over her lips, sitting perfectly still.  Hillcrist, too, is motionless.]

     [The auctioneer, has paused, and is talking to the solicitor,
     who has returned to his seat.]

Mrs. H. Oh!  Jack.

Jill.  Stick it, Dodo; stick it!

Auctioneer.  Now, gen’lemen, I have a bid of seven thousand one hundred for the Centry.  And I’m instructed to sell if I can’t get more.  It’s a fair price, but not a big price. [To his friend Mr. Spicer] A thumpin’ price? [With his smile] Well, you’re a judge of thumpin’, I admit.  Now, who’ll give me seven thousand two hundred?  What, no one?  Well, I can’t make you, gen’lemen.  For seven thousand one hundred.  Once—­[Taps] Twice—­[Taps].

     [Jill utters a little groan.]

Hillcrist. [Suddenly, in a queer voice] Two.

Auctioneer. [Turning with surprise and looking up to receive Hillcrist’s nod] Thank you, sir.  And two.  Seven thousand two hundred. [He screws himself round so as to command both Hillcrist and Hornblower] May I have yours, sir? [Hornblower] And three. [Hillcrist] And four.  Seven thousand four hundred.  For seven thousand four hundred. [Hornblower] Five. [Hillcrist] Six.  For seven thousand six hundred. [A pause] Well, gen’lemen, this is. better, but a record property shid fetch a record price.  The possibilities are enormous. [Hornblower] Eight thousand did you say, sir?  Eight thousand.  Going for eight thousand pounds. [Hillcrist] And one. [Hornblower] And two. [Hillcrist] And three. [Hornblower] And four. [Hillcrist] And five.  For eight thousand five hundred.  A wonderful property for eight thousand five hundred.

[He wipes his brow.]

Jill. [Whispering] Oh, Dodo!

Mrs. H. That’s enough, Jack, we must stop some time.

Auctioneer.  For eight thousand five hundred.  Once—­[Taps]—­twice—­ [Taps] [Hornblower] Six hundred. [Hillcrist] Seven.  May I have yours, sir? [Hornblower] Eight.

Hillcrist. Nine thousand.

     [Mrs. Hillcrist looks at him, biting her lips, but he is quite
     absorbed.]