“Come, everyone, let us go inside, and ye can give me ideas for finishings,” Tom goes on, escorting us all—with me on his arm—to the entryway. “The exteriors will weather over the summer if it pleases Jehovah. But it would be good to have some color inside.”
Entering the house, I note the sturdy oak logs that support the second level. It would be wonderful to live here. Snug in winter.
“Such a large hearth!” Mary exclaims.
“I like a large hearth,” Tom said. “I was a bit extravagant with the brickwork. I used my bonus from the war to pay for it, but I thought my future wife might appreciate a bit of decoration. What do ye think, Mistress Carr?”
Why do I have to approve of things he made for someone else?
“It’s lovely,” I comment while keeping my expression neutral.
“And a color for the walls? What do ye think? Maybe a warm tone? If we leave the walls as they are, they will probably look like soot before winter arrives.”
“I didn’t know ye like colors.”
“There are probably lots of things about me ye don’t know . . . yet.”
What does he mean by that?
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