"I never bargain," he said. "I'll give you Beacham Brown's cheque for
a hundred and fifty if you will give me a receipt for three hundred,"
and he looked inquiry out of his small, pale blue eyes, and Mike
noticed the diamond ring on the hand that caressed his moustache.

"No," said Mike, "that isn't fair. You don't write a line of the
book. There is not even the excuse of commission, for the book is now
appearing."

"Escott would not have paid you anything like that amount. I think
I'm treating you very liberally. Indeed I don't mind telling you that
I should not offer you anything like such terms if Beacham Brown were
not anxious to have the book; he read your last article in the train,
and came back raving about it."

Bright pleasure passed across Mike's face; he thought Thigh had
slipped in the avowal, and he girt himself for resolute resistance
and cautious attack. But Thigh was the superior strategist. Mike was
led from the subject, and imperceptibly encouraged to speak of other
things, and without interruption he span paradoxes and scattered
jokes for ten minutes. Then the conversation dropped, and annoyed,
Mike fixed his eyes on Thigh, who sat in unmovable silence.

"Well," said Mike, "what do you intend to do?"

"About what?" said Thigh, with a half-waking stare.

"About this book of mine. You know very well that if I take it to
another shop you'll find it difficult to get anything like as good a
serial. I know pretty well what talent is walking about Fleet
Street."

Thigh said nothing, only raised his eyes as if Mike's words were full
of suggestion, and again beguiled, Mike rambled into various
criticisms of contemporary journalism. Friends were laughed at, and
the papers they edited were stigmatized as rags that lived upon the
ingenuity of the lies of advertising agents. When the conversation
again dropped, Thigh showed no inclination of returning to the book,
but, as before, sat in stony silence, and out of temper with himself,
Mike had to ask him again what the terms were.

"I cannot offer you better terms than I have already done."

"Very well; I'll take one hundred and fifty for the serial rights."

"No, for the entire rights."

"No, I'll be damned, I don't care what happens!"

Then Frank joined in the discussion. Every one withdrew the offer he
had made, and all possibility of agreement seemed at an end. Somehow
it was suggested that Thigh should toss Mike whether he should pay
him two hun