ressively, 'that if a book of mine makes a profit of ten thousand
pounds, you'll take a thousand pounds just for getting it published?'

'It comes to that,' Mr. Snyder admitted.

'Oh!' cried Henry, aghast, astounded. 'A thousand pounds!'

And he kept saying: 'A thousand pounds! A thousand pounds!'

He saw now where the Turkey carpets and the photogravures and the
Teofani cigarettes came from.

'A thousand pounds!'

Mr. Snyder stuck the revolver into a drawer.

'I'll think it over,' said Henry discreetly. 'How long shall you be in
America?'

'Oh, about a couple of months!' And Mr. Snyder smiled brightly. Henry
could not find a satisfactory explanation of the man's eternal jollity.

'Well, I'll think it over,' he said once more, very courteously. 'And
I'm much obliged to you for giving me an interview.' And he took up
_Love in Babylon_ and departed.

It appeared to have been a futile and ludicrous encounter.

CHAPTER XI

SATIN

Yes, there had been something wrong with the interview. It had entirely
failed to tally with his expectations of it. The fact was that he,
Henry, had counted for very little in it. He had sat still and listened,
and, after answering Mr. Mark Snyder's questions, he had made no
original remark except 'A thousand pounds!' And if he was disappointed
with Mr. Snyder, and puzzled by him, too, he was also disappointed with
himself. He felt that he had displayed none of those business qualities
which he knew he possessed. He was a man of affairs, with a sure belief
in his own capacity to handle any matter requiring tact and discretion;
and yet he had lolled like a simpleton in the Chippendale chair of Mr.
Snyder, and contributed naught to the interview save 'A thousand
pounds!'

Nevertheless, he sincerely thought Mr. Snyder's terms exorbitant. He
was not of the race of literary aspirants who are eager to be published
at any price. Literature had no fatal fascination for him. His wholly
sensible idea now was that, having written a book, he might as well get
it printed and make an honest penny out of it, if possible. However, the
effect of the visit to Kenilworth Mansions was to persuade him to
resolve to abandon the enterprise; Mr. Mark Snyder had indeed
discouraged him. And in the evening, when he reached Dawes Road, he gave
his mother and aunt a truthful account of the episode, and stated,
pleasantly but plainly, that he should burn _Love in Babylon_. And his
mother and aunt, per