I saw he had
been drinking, but his brain was still tolerably clear.
"Rejected, by Jove!" he remarked as he saw the MS.
"No," I answered, throwing it on to a side table and myself into the
chair opposite him--"no, thank heaven, it's all right now! They've
accepted it. Congratulate me!"
"But what on earth have you brought it back for, then?" he said,
blinking his heavy eyes and looking at me resentfully, as if he
suspected I was playing some practical joke.
"Oh, there are a few things they want altered, that's all," I
answered. "I am to let them have it again the day after to-morrow."
"And what about terms?" he continued, getting out a roll of
cigarette papers and beginning to roll himself some cigarettes.
He was wide awake now, and had shaken off his intoxicated stupor.
His face was bent slightly as he made the cigarettes, so that I
could hardly see it. I sat watching his trembling fingers rolling
the papers in an absent silence.
"Oh, terms?" I said at last. "Fairly good, I think. They pay me a
small sum and reserve me one-third of all profits from the book. I
really don't care much about the terms. Once the book is out my name
is made, and the money will come in all right in time. They've taken
it; that is the main point. If you knew the glorious relief it is to
me!"
Howard laughed. He flung himself back in the chair and propped his
feet up against the support of the mantelpiece.
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