The tells are clear, twitches, slight obstacles that block the realtor's path to a win. She dutifully blathers. I listen to the charming noises an old wooden floor makes, admire the lovely Victorian windows. She's saying how wonderful pretty much everything about the place is. I agree, knowing that her job is to be partial and close. I move a pace apart and sniff: do people really believe that shiny new appliances in the updated kitchen and paint here and there and bits of new carpet are enough to distract one from the fan that's going full blast in the basement? Do they we'll see the mask and not wonder what lies beneath? Do we come now sans noses, deaf to the old, old tale of mold, cat pee and smoke? David Ritchie, Portland, Oregon------------------------------------------------------------------ To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off, digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html