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Chapter 15

           Iamgoingto‘pose’asyourbusinessman—your‘literaryagent’whopocketstenpercent.oftheprofitsandwantstomakea‘bigthing’outofyou,andI’mgoingtotalkthematteroverwiththeperfectlypracticalMcWhingwhohas,likeeverytrueScot,akeeneyeforthemainchance.Ofcourseitwillbeinconfidence—strictconfidence!"andhelaughed—"It’sallaquestionofbusinessyouknow—inthesecommercialdays,literaturehasbecomeatradelikeeverythingelse,andevencriticsonlyworkforwhatpaysthem.Asindeedwhyshouldtheynot?"

           "DoyoumeantotellmeMcWhingwilltakethatfivehundred?"Iaskeddubiously.

           "Imeantotellyounothingofthekind.Iwouldnotputthemattersocoarselyfortheworld!ThismoneyisnotforMcWhing—itisforaliterarycharity."

           "Indeed!Ithoughtyouhadanideaperhapsofofferingabribe...."

           "Bribe!GoodHeavens!Bribeacritic!Impossible,mygoodGeoffrey!—suchathingwasneverheardof—never,never,never!"andheshookhisheadandrolleduphiseyeswithinfinitesolemnity—"Nono!Presspeoplenevertakemoneyforanything—notevenfor‘booming’anewgold-miningcompany—notevenforputtinganoticeofafashionableconcertintotheMorningPost.

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