He turned the car down a well-lighted avenue that merged into a highway.
They turned onto a side road. There followed more turns--left, right,
right.
Ted Graham lost track.
They hit a jolting bump that made Martha gasp.
"I hope that wasn't too rough on you," said Rush. "We're almost there."
* * * * *
The car swung into a lane, its lights picking out the skeleton outlines
of trees: peculiar trees--tall, gaunt, leafless. They added to Ted
Graham's feeling of uneasiness.
The lane dipped, ended at a low wall of a house--red brick with
clerestory windows beneath overhanging eaves. The effect of the wall and
a wide-beamed door they could see to the left was ultramodern.
Ted Graham helped his wife out of the car, followed the Rushes to the
door.
"I thought you told me it was an old house," he said.
"It was designed by one of the first modernists," said Rush. He fumbled
with an odd curved key. The wide door swung open onto a hallway equally
wide, carpeted by a deep pile rug. They could glimpse floor-to-ceiling
view windows at the end of the hall, city lights beyond.
Martha Graham gasped, entered the hall as though in a trance. Ted Graham
followed, heard the door close behind them.
"It's so--so--so _big_," exclaimed Martha Graham.
"You want to trade _this_ for our trailer?" asked Ted Graham.
"It's too inconvenient for us," said Rush. "My work is over the
mountains on the coast." He shrugged. "We cannot sell it."
Ted Graham looked at him sharply. "Isn't there any money around here?"
He had a sudden vision of a tax accountant with no customers.
"Plenty of money, but no real estate customers."
They entered the living room. Sectional divans lined the walls. Subdued
lighting glowed from the corners. Two paintings hung on the opposite
walls--oblongs of odd lines and twists that made Ted Graham dizzy.
Warning bells clamored in his mind.
* * * * *
Martha Graham crossed to the windows, looked at the lights far away
below. "I had no idea we'd climbed that far," she said. "It's like a
fairy city."
Mrs. Rush emitted a short, nervous laugh.
Ted Graham glanced around the room, thought: _If the rest of the house
is like this, it's worth fifty or sixty thousand_. He thought of the
trailer: _A good one, but not worth more than seven thousand_.
Uneasiness was like a neon sign flashing in his mind. "This seems
so ..." He shook his head.
"Would you like to see the rest of the house?" asked Rush.