Possession

by A.S. Byatt

She was a teacher before the children. She did teach English. She often expressed an interest in Grummer’s tree letters. That’s what we always called them. Grummer’s tree letters. I couldn’t possibly think of letting you have them without so much as asking her. They’re hers, in a sort of way—in trust, if you see what I mean.” “Of course you should consult her. You should say we would naturally give you an advantageous price for these documents. When you speak to her you should mention that. We have very ample funds, Mrs Wapshott.” “Very ample funds,” she repeated after him, vaguely. He was aware that she thought it would be ill-bred to ask him what sort of price he might offer, and that suited him very well, that gave him room to manoeuvre, as he calculated that the richest dreams of her modest avarice would be unlikely to reach the sort of sum he would willingly pay on the open market. He was rarely wrong in these cases. He could most frequently foretell to a dollar what some country curate or school librarian might suppose he could demand, both before and after professional advice.