Robert W. Chambers

“ If I am not here officially I ought not to be here at all."
"Can't I talk to you except on business?"
"Why should you?"
"Because I want to—because it is pleasant—because it's the pleasantest thing that has ever come into my life!"
"That cannot be," she said, paling. "You know many people, you go everywhere—everywhere that I do not——"
"If I were not an advertising poet at thirty dollars a week," he said, "I'd not care where my uncle left his millions. I'd do what I pleased—what I ought to do—what any man with a grain of sense would do."
"What would you do, Mr. Hildreth?" ”

“ The woods, is perfume from the box of tin!
Hil—"
"Oh, dear!" said the stenographer with a sudden little indrawing of her breath.
"If you want to laugh," he said, flushing, "go ahead. I'm not sensitive."
"I had no desire to laugh, Mr. Hildreth; it's far beyond a laughing matter."
He regarded her gloomily, relighted his cigar, and gazed out of the frosty window. After a moment a smile twitched his mouth. ”

“ She crossed her pretty hands below her throat, a smile, half gay, half tender, parting her lips.
"How did you know such things?" he asked.
"My father was a judge of the Mixed Tribunal," she answered gravely. "My mother was married there; I was born in Cairo."
"Fate!" he said excitedly—"sheer Fate! My father was the ex-Confederate, Hildreth Pasha, of the Khedival Court! The Sarna—that bottle cradled there—came from a judge of the Mixed Tribunal! Shall not their children touch the same glass?" ”

“ They were both laughing, she with more reserve than he.
"If a bandit's life is not a happy one, what must a poet's life resemble?" he demanded. "Why, it's a perfect—but the word is inadequate, Miss Grey. Did you ever for one mad moment suppose that I wrote rhymes for the pleasure it gave me?" ”

“ Every poem I've done for the Honey Wafers Company you've revised. It is you who have made them sell all over this continent."
"What of it?" she answered, amused, "as long as your uncle is satisfied. I don't mind the trouble of editing your verses—truly I don't." She rested her cheek on her wrist, playing the while with her pencil. "I am very happy to do what I can, Mr. Hildreth. Shall we try once more?" ”

“ There was an ominous pause; then she repeated calmly:
"If you do?"
"I'm down and out, and he leaves about five millions to the Society for Psychical Research. A nice position for me if I should ever fall in love, isn't it?" ”

“ Why, that's Fifth Avenue out there, and there's Thirtieth Street, too; besides, the town's full of police; and they pinch star-readers and astrologers these days. Anyway, we have the swastika, and it will put any Sixth Avenue astrologer out of business——"
"I—I don't think I quite understand you," faltered the girl.
He looked at her; the scared expression died out.
"I'll get my uncle on the long-distance 'phone in a moment," he said irritably. "Then we'll clear up this business. Meanwhile—" He twisted up the telegram as though to cast it on the coals. ”

“ Don't you see?"
"Is it not good advertising to break off abruptly and leave the public hungry?"
"No; that's only good literature; but in advertising you must not leave your public discontented. People like to look at pictures of other people who are enjoying something to repletion—pitching into a generous trough of breakfast food, or pausing to savor the delicious after-effects of a nerve tonic. Besides," he added moodily, puffing his cigar, "my uncle requires three verses, and that settles it. ”

“ On the ceiling several delicately tinted Cupids were attempting to asphyxiate one another with piles of roses. The room and its furniture also were gayly ornamental after the style popularly imputed to Louis XIV, that monarch being in no condition to deny the accusation. There was a view through one door into a rococo library, through another into a breakfast room, and through the windows into a snowstorm at Thirtieth Street and Fifth Avenue. ”

“ He might draw—dreadful conclusions."
"What on earth do you mean, Miss Grey? He never even heard of you. How can he know you are here?"
"Suppose—suppose—he is is looking into his crystal!"
A sudden silence fell, lasting until the coffee was served.
"It is nonsense to suppose that people can do such things," said Hildreth abruptly. ”

“ He said it would interest him excessively, and he desired information.
"I think," she said, not looking at him but at her pencil, with which she was tracing arabesques on the pad, "I think that you could do some things much better than—others. Oh, dear! that sounds like Tupper—but it's true."
"You mean I'd make a better bandit, for example, than I do a poet?"
"I don't know what qualification you have for the career you suggest," she replied demurely.
"I understand you," he said; "it's as simple as those profound lines:
"A fool is bent upon a twig, but wise men shun a bandit ”

“ We need something to flavor the poem. Do you believe that you and I could make any proper use of 'sin'?"
She appeared doubtful.
"Let us see, anyway. Read what you've taken," he said, composing himself to listen to his own lines with the modest resignation of the true poet. ”

“ Well, let me tell you it's about five thousand times more powerful than a rabbit's foot. ... What? ... Yes, I'll hold the wire till you look it up in the dictionary."
A throbbing silence. Then:
"Yes, Uncle Peter, I'm here."
•⁠•⁠•⁠•⁠•
"Very well; I'm sorry you're angry, and I regret that you're not afraid of the swastika. I am quite willing to trust to it; the swastika gave me the girl I love. And, by the way, Uncle Peter, didn't you write me that my advertising poems made a fortune for you out of your wafers? ... All right ”