How foolish people are when they own valuable things, Horace thought! A magazine article had described this house, giving a plan of all the rooms and a picture of this room. The writer had even mentioned that the painting hid a safe!
But Horace found that the flowers were stopping him in his work. He buried his face in his handkerchief.
Then he heard a voice say from the doorway:
"What is it? A cold or hay fever?"
Before he could think, Horace said. "Hay fever," and found himself sneezing again.