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“I can’t make them out,” he said at last; “they come to nearly seven hundred more than they ought.”

After a glance at Bosinney’s face he went on quickly:

“If you only make a firm stand against these builder chaps you’ll get them down. They stick you with everything if you don’t look sharp.... Take ten per cent. off all round. I shan’t mind it’s coming out a hundred or so over the mark!”

Bosinney shook his head:

“I’ve taken off every farthing I can!”

Soames pushed back the table with a movement of anger, which sent the account sheets fluttering to the ground.

“Then all I can say is,” he flustered out, “you’ve made a pretty mess of it!”

“I’ve told you a dozen times,” Bosinney answered sharply, “that there’d be extras. I’ve pointed them out to you over and over again!”

“I know that,” growled Soames: “I shouldn’t have objected to a ten pound note here and there. How was I to know that by ‘extras’ you meant seven hundred pounds?”

The qualities of both men had contributed to this not-inconsiderable discrepancy. On the one hand, the architect’s devotion to his idea, to the image of a house which he had created and believed in—had made him nervous of being stopped, or forced to the use of makeshifts; on the other, Soames’s not less true and wholehearted devotion to the very best article that could be obtained for the money, had rendered him averse to believing that things worth thirteen shillings could not be bought with twelve.