His eyebrows went up.
'The man's a _fool_!' he said vehemently. 'I know the value of my
own timber a great deal better than he. They're not worth a third of
what they put them at.'
'Even at the Government price?' Elizabeth ventured slyly. 'He'll be
very glad to give it!'
'Then it's blackmailing the country,' said the Squire obstinately.
'I loathe the war, but I'm not a profiteer.'
Elizabeth was silent. If the Squire persisted in rejecting this
deal, which he had himself invited in another mood, half her dreams
for the future, the dreams of a woman just beginning to feel the
intoxication of power, or, to put it better, the creative passion of
the reformer, were undone. She had already saved the Squire much
money. When all reasonable provision had been made for investment,
replanting, and the rest, this sale would still leave enough to
transform the estate and scores of human lives upon it. Her will
chafed hotly under the curb imposed upon it by the caprices of a
master for whom--save only as a Greek scholar--she had little
respect.
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