to that, too,” Mary answered methodically but, withal, a note in her voice of pride in her own farsightedness and efficiency. “Laroux, the real-estate man on Canal Street, telephoned me yesterday he’s found a buyer—a company that plans to build an apartment house here—and Laroux tells me he’ll be ready to close the deal by the end of the week.”
“Sell this house, papa!” broke in Mimi. “No—no! We can’t let them tear our house down!”
“Yes, sell this house,” affirmed Mary before Jean could reply. “I can’t for the life of me see why you are so crazy about these draughty, moth-eaten old places. If I had the money I’d tear all of them down, build nice, modern places and make ten—twenty times the money off of them.”
Before Jean could speak Mary swept conqueringly from the room. Mimi slipped her hand into Jean’s and squeezed it comfortingly, the pair of them too full for speech.