'Where are we to get the wood? There are not
ships enough to bring it overseas?'
'And suppose I grant you that--why am I not to get my fair
price--like anybody else? Just tell me that!'
'Why, everybody's "controlled"!' cried Elizabeth.
'Pshaw! I am sorry to be uncivil'--a sarcastic bow in her
direction--'but I really must point out that you talk nonsense.
Look at the money in the banks--look at the shops and the
advertisements--look at the money that people pay for pictures, and
old books, and autographs. _Somebody's_ making profits--that's
clear. But a wretched landowner--with a few woods to sell--it is
easy to victimize him!'
'It comes to a large sum,' said Elizabeth, looking down. At last she
was conscious of a real exasperation with the Squire. For four
months now she had been wrestling with him--for his own good and the
country's, and everything had always to be begun again. Suddenly her
spirits drooped.
The Squire observed her furtively out of the corners of his eyes.
Then he turned to the last page of the contract, with its final
figures.
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