It had fallen so obviously at her feet, that she felt it was
meant for her.
She shuffled her feet on the cold clean matting and said again, "I'd
have a nice thick carpet--"
"What colour?"
She looked up to the ceiling to think--not at the room around her.
"I don't know--Turkey red, I think--that's warmest. You know my
carpet--well, it used to be nice. It's worn a bit now and there's
not so much colour in it as when it was new. That was Turkey red."
"And what else?" He sat on the corner of an old table and smoked his
pipe--swinging his legs and looking at her.
"Well, I'd have electric lights instead of these candles--you can't
expect a woman to see with candles;--'lectric light's twice as cheap
and it's much brighter. And they make lovely new fittings now--quite
inexpensive--oxidized copper, I think they call it; I like brass best
myself."
"You think brass is better?"
"Yes; don't you? Those brass candlesticks that you've got are all
right, only they're so plain."
"You like things more ornate?"
"More what?"
"More ornate--more highly finished--more elaborate?"
"Yes; don't you?"
He took no notice of that question. "What else would you do?" he asked.
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